How the Phantom Stole a Hero's Heart
by Lemonbookworm
Summary: Izuku Midoriya is a hero. He's not the kind of hero most people imagine heroes to be like, but he is one. A vigilante, to be exact, but he is just as if not more popular than pro-heroes. As a co-leader of The Phantom Syndicate, he fights for quirkless rights alongside a hundred other vigilantes. Can some policemen and a handful of heroes and hero-trainees stop him?
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey there! Welcome to my fic!**_

_**This fic is a request from Shiranai Atsune on . I hope you like it and my idea in general.**_

_**To start off: if 20% of the population is quirkless, that means 25,372,060 people alone in Japan. That's a lot. So like, I'm genuinely curious why they're so discriminated against...? Also, 20% is 1/5 and 1 in 5 people is quirkless, so why was Izuku the only quirkless one in his class? Am I the only one confused about this?**_

_**Anyways: Have fun reading this chapter!**_

"Well, I think that when all is said and done, you were great, you know."

Izuku Midoriya's gaze wandered from the pavement to a pair of nice, fancy leather shoes in front of him, then to the man standing in said shoes. He was what one would describe a typical middle-aged businessman, except he didn't have that apathetic aura and actually looked good in his suit. The blue light of the sirens surrounded him like a cold fog, but he radiated nothing but warmth when it came to body language. One arm folded over his chest, the other held out towards Izuku, back bent and leaning down towards the kid in the most non-threatening way possible.

"Excuse me?" The boy blinked at the man with a questioning look, glancing at the crowd of civilians still lingering around, watching the pro-heroes collect the last few pieces of the defeated sludge villain. Most of them paid him no mind, and he was more than okay with that. He's already gotten a talking from the heroes ten minutes prior, he would've preferred dealing with his whole word crashing and burning on his own.

"You heard me. You'd make a great hero." The man smiled. There was something off about his smile, about his perfectly white teeth and neat shave, although Izuku couldn't quite put his finger on it yet. "Mind if I take a seat?"

It took Izuku a few seconds to comprehend that the guy did, in fact, want to sit on the side of the road, next to him. A good kid probably wouldn't have agreed to it. A good kid would've stood up and run to the heroes screaming 'stranger danger' or at least gotten the hell out of there in his place. But he wasn't a good kid apparently, now more than ever, just because he risked his life to save a friend. Isn't that what heroes do? Risk their lives to save others?

He slowly nodded and watched as the man took a seat. "I'm quirkless, so, uhm, probably not." The awkward laugh he let out after he said that pained him; he would have to accept and live with that fact the rest of his life, starting today. All Might himself had said it – he couldn't become a hero.

"But you want to be one, don't you?" Black eyes stared right through Izuku's soul, seeing right through him, reading him like an open book. A mind-reading quirk, perhaps? "Why?"

"I… Uhm, well..." Izuku started rubbing the back of his neck, averting his gaze from the businessman, going back to staring at the wet pavement. "I guess it was some stupid childhood dream I wasn't ready to give up. But I'm over it now. I think."

It felt weird to share all this information with a total stranger, but it wasn't necessarily a bad kind of weird. Just the unfamiliar kind, Izuku guessed. Bizarre. He didn't trust people enough to talk about his feelings. They usually ridiculed him for being quirkless, and he'd go out of his way to hide that part of him as long as possible.

"Yeah, but why did you want to become one?" The man repeated his question.

The sad part was that he still knew the answer without missing a beat. Despite having sworn that he had given up on that ambition, it still lurked in him below the surface. "I want to save people with a smile on my face. Give people strength and assure them that everything will be alright, that they don't have to be afraid anymore."

"But you can do that without being a pro-hero, too." Izuku felt the warmth of the man's breath next to his ear. It had the faint smell of coffee and peppermint.

"I know, I could be a police offi-"

"People aren't born equal, but they're born with the ability to change things. One might say that only those who have power can bring change, but that's untrue. The determined have a great advantage, they have a hunger that can't be quenched until they get what they want. The determined have what it takes to lead a revolution. They will fight and win in the face of adversity. You are one of the determined ones, right?"

Izuku focused on the siren of a police car, let his face be illuminated by the blue light. It was getting dark, he should probably be on his home at this point. "I don't even know who you are. And I won't go against my morals to get what I want," he said, his voice quiet but unwavering.

"My name is Hakaru Go." The man, Go, smiled nonchalantly. His smile appeared not charming but obnoxious now, a kind of overbearing that reminded Izuku of Katsuki Bakugou. "And I never asked you to go against your moral code. I'm afraid you misunderstood me there. You see, I don't want you to become a villain or anything. I'm offering you to become a hero."

The small apartment was quiet and dark. As soon as Izuku opened the door, the familiar smell of his mom's cooking hit him. A small, ghost-like figure exited one of the bedrooms and quietly floated across the room with light steps to get to him. "Welcome home, sweetie. Are you hungry?"

Izuku hugged his mom as a greeting and nodded. He was tired and worn down from the day's events, but he wouldn't miss an opportunity to be with his mom.

Inko Midoriya flashed a feeble smile in return and hurried over into the kitchen.

"I saw the news. Please don't do such a thing ever again, Izuku, I was so worried!" Mom's shaky but soft voice broke the silence like a stone being thrown into water. Her whisper was a quiet echo of her usual tone, a version that pressed Izuku's chest together and made him forget how to breathe.

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"Promise me, Izuku, please. Promise me you won't put yourself in danger anymore, okay?" She placed the food in front of her son already sitting at the table, and repeated "please" once more, just for good measure.

The time it took Izuku to reply was way too much, the pause was one moment too long. Inko knew that, and Izuku knew that too. But neither of them said a word, it was but a silent conversation they had with their eyes. Inko's staring right at her only son, looking for eye contact, her boy's eyes averted, looking at the floorboards. "I… I promise, Mom."

"I love you. You know that, right? No matter what. You're my hero."

"I know, Mom. I love you too."

Inko smiled and brushed away a tear from the corner of her eye. She watched his son eat in silence, watched over him as her smile grew even brighter because moments like these were the only times she could protect him from everything. Where Izuku and her were the only ones who mattered, no pro-heroes, no bullies, no quirks or lack of quirks. Only the two Midoriyas in the small apartment, eating and enjoying each other's company, enjoying the silence. It was bittersweet, really.

"Hey, Mom?"

Izuku was at the brink of tears, she could tell. That's something he had gotten from her, admittedly; another thing Inko felt sorry about, another thing she wished he would forgive her for.

"I don't want to become a pro-hero anymore. I'm thinking about joining a club for quirkless people like me. It just… It seems like a good idea. Maybe I could make some friends and such." He started rambling, absentmindedly pushing around the food on his plate in the meantime.

His mom interrupted him after a while. "I agree, that does sound good. Have you already found one to join?"

"Yeah. It's a pretty big one, it has a lot of members from what I heard." His voice was quiet, but he sounded genuinely excited and happy.

"Oh, well that's great!" Inko looked at the now empty plate of her son. "Maybe you could call your dad and tell him about it. I'm sure he'd be happy to hear from you."

Izuku pretended to think about it for a while, then shook his head. "Maybe later. Thanks for the meal, it was delicious." He bowed and got up, heading towards his room right away. "I think I'll go to bed early today. Goodnight, Mom."

"What are you doing, Izuku dear?" His mom asked, stepping over a pile of All Might posters in front of his room. His room, which looked nothing like his room anymore. The blue-red-yellow color scheme laid littered across the floor, posters ripped from the walls and figurines neatly packed in boxes. "Is everything alright?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah Mom, everything's great. Just decided I want to change things up a bit." Izuku smiled and grabbed another figurine. "Do you think we could sell these? I have some limited edition ones too, those would probably sell well."

"What's wrong with your All Might merchandise? Are you suddenly not a fan of him anymore?" Inko raised her eyebrows confused. Her Izuku wasn't her Izuku without his All Might-adoration. He's been a fan of him for more than ten years now, after all.

"Oh, that's not the case at all. I'm still a big fan of him. I just thought I'm too old for such figures, we might as well give them away."

"Izuku, what's wrong? Not being a pro-hero doesn't mean you can't be a fan of them, honey." She walked over to his bed and sat down. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

"No, Mom, everything's alright, I swear. I actually met All Might yesterday and he signed my hero analysis book. It was... Well, nice, I guess." Izuku assured her, plopping down right next to her and leaning his head on her shoulder. A heavy burden, his conscience, settled in his stomach. Some details could be left out, right? Why would his mom need to know about what All Might had said?

"Was meeting him not how you imagined it would be? Is that why you're acting this way?" So she could see through him as well. The second person today, right after Mr. Hakaru Go. Izuku wondered if he really was this predictable.

"No, not at all, that's not the case! He's even cooler in person, actually. I just…" He had a hard time describing what he was feeling, without reciting his hero's words to his mom. His feelings were blurry and confusing, and he'd formulate it wrong if he were to try to put it in words.

It might've been the fact that he was not on All Might's side anymore. Yes, that must've been the reason. All Might was more or less his enemy right now, and he had to get used to that. You

don't have posters of your enemy plastered on your walls, after all.

Then again, All Might wasn't directly his enemy. He would be a hero, against All Might's advice, against the law, and against his own better judgment. All Might was one of the heroes that disapproved of quirkless people becoming heroes, as he had learned yesterday, and while he wasn't a stuck up hero, he didn't support Izuku's cause either.

They had to start a revolution, Hakaru Go had said. An uprising of quirkless people, quirkless kids and quirkless adults, who all wanted to be heroes but had their dream stolen from them, who were robbed by an unfair society. 20% meant one-fifth of the population. One out of five people was discriminated against because they didn't have a superpower. Was that justice?

Heroes weren't defined by their powers. Their actions and their legacy, those were the things that made them heroes. You could be the most powerful human on the planet; as long as people disliked you, you were a villain. By that logic, beloved lawbreakers could be heroes too, if they broke the right laws and charmed the right people. Izuku clearly remembered every word Hakaru Go had said yesterday and agreed with all of it. Mr. Go's words were like water in the desert, you desperately craved to get it and couldn't get enough once you experienced it once.

"...You just what? Izuku?" His mom put a shaky hand on his head, fingers running through his green locks.

"Never mind, Mom. Maybe I'll tell you later. I have to go now, I think. My first meeting with the group is today, I don't want to be late." Izuku jumped up from the bed, gave his mother a hug and hurried out of the room after saying goodbye.

He had lied. Izuku still had plenty of time to get to the meeting point. An hour, to be precise, if he didn't subtract the time he needed to walk to the small restaurant their first session would take place in. It was about three miles east from his apartment, he would be too early, even if he changed his route now or went to grab something to eat first.

Eating was out of the question, though. Not only because they'd probably eat at the meeting, but also because Izuku was pretty sure whatever he'd eat wouldn't stay in his stomach for longer than then minutes. Nervousness came over him and covered every inch of his body like a second skin, excitement prickling in his fingertips. He was on his way to becoming a hero. On his way to fulfill his life long dream, a wish he'd thought was irrational and impossible to achieve. So what if he wouldn't be an official hero, a professional one? He wouldn't get money for it, sure, but that's not why he was in it in the first place.

And, unlike most heroes, he'd genuinely achieve something. He'd change the world, change society for the better, convince All Might and all the others that he, and all of the quirkless population, could become heroes. That they weren't weak or any less of a human for one extra joint in their pinkie toes.

A voice in the back of his mind interrupted his train of thoughts. All Might's loud tone, the one that'd make villains tremble and retreat, the one that could calm civilians just by saying his signature three-word-sentence. The same voice was telling Izuku right now that what he was doing was illegal. That he was on his way to becoming a criminal.

No matter how much Izuku respected All Might, he couldn't bring himself to care. He had hit rock bottom yesterday, with the assistance of his idol no less, and if anyone were to take his last resort, his plan B away from him, he'd be reduced to an empty shell of his former self with no idea what to do with himself.

There was no other option. Not all men are created equal, but that was supposed to change. Izuku would help the revolution, he'd lead it. And no matter how one looked at it, sacrifices needed to be made for a revolution.

He hurried past an auto body shop and turned left at the crossroad. Barely thirty feet away stood a small 'cafe and restaurant', old and worn down. A yellow sign above the entrance advertised a 'buy one get one free' sale with neon blue letters that didn't go well with the background color at all.

Taking an unsure look at the hand-drawn map between his fingers, Izuku assured himself he was in the right place and made his way to the run-down building.

A bell sound alerted the owner of his presence as soon as he stepped over the doorstep. Two older women hurried to the counter from the back. The taller one studied him for a few seconds, looked him over, perhaps tried to figure out what a fifteen-year-old was doing in a place like this. This part of the city wasn't infamous for being a good neighborhood, it was no place where middle schoolers usually spent their days off. She raised a wary eyebrow and turned to her friend.

"Are you here because of that TPS thing?", asked the shorter and admittedly rounder one. She gave Izuku a generous smile and walked out from behind the counter to stand face-to-face to him.

"I'm sorry?" Izuku cautiously took a step back, but before he knew it, the woman had already grabbed his shoulder and was gently pushing him towards one of the chairs.

"Hakaru-chan used to jokingly call it Tall Poppy Syndrome, you know, since it's ironic... Its official name is The Phantom Syndicate though. You are here for the meeting, right?"

Before Izuku could understand what was going on, the first woman had already joined them at the table.

"Akiara, let the child confirm it first before you tell him everything. So, did Hakaru Go invite you here?" The woman crossed her arms over her chest, looking at Izuku with unmistakable skepticism.

"...Yes, he did. I'm here for the meeting." Izuku gulped. "I'm sorry I'm early. My name is Izuku Midoriya, it's a pleasure to meet you."

A flood of relief washed over the taller woman, while the one supposedly called Akiara got even more excited.

"Don't mention it! Hakaru-chan- I mean Mr. Go will be pretty early as well. Would you like a drink in the meantime, Midoriya?" Ms. Akiara quickly grabbed a menu from the counter and handed it to Izuku, who politely declined and put the menu in front of him. "Oh, and we should probably introduce ourselves too, huh? I'm Akiara Suzuki and this is my sister Hekima. It's nice to meet you too."

"So, Midoriya, you'd like to become a vigilante, right?" Hekima Suzuki asked. She had gone back to behind the counter and was now reading something, not paying much attention to the others. "Why?

"I want to become a hero. The kind that All Might is, saving people with a smile on his face." Izuku mumbled, his subconscious still expecting to receive backlash despite knowing that he was in a safe space here.

"Oh, look at you, speaking just like Hakaru used to back in the day! You're like a younger version of him, I swear." Aikara giggled and brushed a gray lock of hair out of her face.

"What's Mr. Go like?" The words came out of Izuku's mouth before he could stop himself. He had only talked to Hakaru Go an hour or so yesterday, and he, being tired and disoriented and unsure what to do, didn't think all too much about questioning the man's intentions.

The sound of a small bell welcomed another guest to the restaurant. "Why don't you find out yourself, kiddo?" The businessman from yesterday stopped at the entrance, stance wide and hands resting on his hips. "Though, as a starter, I guess I could give you three words to describe myself: determined, smart, adaptive. I'm 39, work as a police sergeant and founded TPS two years ago."

Izuku's eyes widened and he leaned back so far that he almost fell off his chair. If Go was a policeman, he would be able to arrest him any time for wanting to become a vigilante, right? Had he been tricked?

"Oh, don't worry. My police rank is merely a convenient way to keep us informed about what the police know. I have no loyalty to the police whatsoever." His fear and surprise must've been obvious, for Mr. Go was already on his way to give him a pat on the back and calm him down. Or put him in handcuffs, who knows.

In the end, it did turn out to be a comforting gesture. Afterward, Go sat down at his table and grinned at Izuku while Aikara left to make coffee for him. "So… What's your name again?"

Could he really trust this man? His mental state yesterday had clearly not been the best, it was logical to conclude that his decision-making skills hadn't been either. Still, the warm aura of Go was still there, today even more than last time. "It's Izuku Midoriya." He responded quietly, as if that would make a difference.

"Well, Izuku Midoriya, let me tell you, you have talent. Your fight yesterday was genuinely fascinating." Go played with the cuff of his suit while talking, never making eye contact longer than a second. "You'll be a valuable member of The Phantom Syndicate if you decide to join. You'd make a great hero."

"How many members does the group have, and how does it operate?" Izuku wanted to know every little detail first, he didn't want to rush into something he wasn't ready for let alone something illegal he wasn't ready for.

"Oh, I like your carefulness. That's a good quality to have in organizations like these. There are currently 96 members, but I'm sure that after a short, one month training period, you'll climb the ranks faster than anyone before you. We haven't made our official debut yet, we're currently staying on the down-low, in the shadows. Once we actually start working, everyone will have a chance to prove themselves, including you." Deep down, Izuku knew that was a manipulation tactic, but he didn't care. He had already decided to join when he had left home earlier this day. Becoming a hero and showing All Might it was possible was more important than anything else. "The Phantom Syndicate will take requests from anybody – we'll fulfill every wish, no matter how

big or small. Don't get me wrong, we're not assassins, that's not what I mean. By requests, I mean the kind of heroism Robin Hood had – steal back what got stolen and get revenge for everyone who gets treated unfairly in this society. We don't keep much of the money for ourselves, so there's no reason to call our actions morally wrong. We're in the right, we'll help others, we'll save them. You can have everything a hero has – popularity, good karma, whatever. So, I'll only ask you once: Will you join?"

Izuku reacted to the hand being offered him right away and shook it with no hesitation.

"You'll need a hero name." Go said with a satisfied smile, wrinkles forming at his eyes. "And a costume. One where no one can recognize you, preferably."

The same smile was visible of Izuku's face, and he had the same glint of enthusiasm in his eyes as always when he talked about heroes. He himself was going to become a hero now, after all. "I think I want to be called Deku. It's… It's a sort of childhood nickname of mine, it motivates me in a way."

"Deku? Isn't that an insult rather than a nickname?" Go raised his eyebrows, but didn't press on when Izuku didn't reply. "Well, alright then, Deku. Welcome to the team."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hey there, welcome back to my fic! I hope you enjoy this chapter – it's a bit longer than the first (don't get used to it though cause I'm usually not this productive)... :) Oh, and by the way: happy holidays!**_

The room was a mess. Not the traditional kind of a mess with broken furniture scattered across the room, no. It was a nonviolent kind of a mess, the furniture and the wall singed black, an arid atmosphere and the smell of burned wood lingering, making a thousand alarm bells ring in Izuku's head, telling him to get out of there immediately. Only one thing convinced him to stay, the weak coughs that could be heard at the other end of the room. Right away, he hurried over and discovered two bodies curled up and leaning against the wall. Surprisingly, that part of the room hadn't been damaged by the fire, though the quirk of one of the victims could've explained that.

A small smile appeared on Izuku's face when he spotted Yuuma Kazama in the corner of his vision. His teammate grabbed one of the bodies lying in front of them, his arms wrapping tightly around the girl's torso.

"Hurry up. They're almost done." Although the other's voice was barely audible from behind his smoke hood, Izuku heard the message crystal clear through his earpiece. He lifted up the one other remaining victim and ran out the door, following Kazama down the stairs.

Outside the room, it was even hotter. His tight black clothes felt extremely itchy and were wet from his sweat, making the air around him seem even drier. The smoke made him feel like an animal being roasted alive; the black burn spots on the walls and the orange flames visible through the windows only added to the effect.

"Are you sure we didn't leave anyone behind?"

"No, but Eagle-owl said the pros are nearly finished, we can't stay here much longer. We've already rescued like 35 people. The pro-heroes can do the rest, Deku. Besides, Boss said everyone gets to go in once. Only once." Kazama gestured towards a broken first-floor window with his head. They could easily climb out that way.

Hurrying to said window, Izuku stuck out his head into the minimally colder, not-quite-so-stifling air. He leaned a bit forward but jerked back when he could feel something piercing his arm. A glass shard from the broken window, what a pathetically careless mistake to make. Biting his cheek to distract himself from the pain, he used his padded elbow to remove any other remaining glass pieces, then did a 180° turn and started climbing out the window, his feet already touching the ground a few seconds later. After carefully navigating the body in his arms through the small hole without cutting it in the process, he sprinted over to the ambulances and let the semi-conscious man fall into the grass with a soft _thump_.

When Kazama had done the same, Izuku turned to him and spoke into the built-in device in his smoke hood. "I'm going back. There might be someone in there who needs our help."

"What a _great_ idea... Deku, are you out of your goddamn mind?" A girl's voice – a girl's _very_ angry voice – yelled into his ear. "Are you after the carbon monoxide poisoning or the second-degree burns? Maybe both? You do know we still need to get out of here, right?"

"The pro heroes have extinguished the fire. I repeat, the fire is gone. They'll probably start pestering us any second. Deku, it's your turn." Eagle-owl stated matter-of-factually, and both Izuku and Kazama turned to the crowd of people surrounding the ruins of the house. All of them, with no exceptions, were looking at them now, confused but happy and thankful, cheering them on like they would do with heroes. It made Izuku's heart swell.

"But shouldn't we make sure everyone is rescued, or at least help the medical professionals with-"

"Deku. I'll search the remains of the building for you. We don't have the time nor the qualifications to help out with the victims. You go ahead and make our debut official." Mr. Go's stern voice appeared over the intercom. "Everyone knows the plan, right?"

"Affirmative." Izuku could practically _hear _Kazama's grin as the boy said that.

"Excellent. Charm them, heroes."

After a short pause, a fleeting moment of hesitation and self-doubt, Izuku stepped forward and removed his smoke hood, revealing the first prototype of his mask. It was a ski mask with no hole for the mouth and no line of fabric separating the eye holes, accessorized with a regular black hood. It couldn't exactly be called a prototype – it was a make-shift solution he had had to come up with when Mr. Go had announced they'd make their first appearance two weeks ago. He wanted to change it to something more stylish and non-threatening in the future, something that didn't make him look like he was about to rob a bank.

What filled his lungs couldn't be called fresh air, but at least it didn't smell like plastic and rubber, something that couldn't be said about the air he had breathed in through the smoke hood. He took a few deep breaths, enjoying the feeling as the outside chill gave him goosebumps due to the sudden change in temperature.

So this is what being a hero felt like. They had saved dozens of people, they had saved their lives and helped the pros. And now hordes of people were watching them with anticipation, taking pictures, clapping and shouting 'thank you's and 'good job's. These citizens were expecting them to introduce themselves now; as the newest heroes, fresh graduates of the sixth or fourteenth or twenty-first best hero school in the country, who were eager to assure their safety and happiness.

Izuku put a smile on his face and waved. Kazama took a step in his direction and playfully slapped his back before steering him closer to the crowd.

Why had Mr. Go chosen Izuku for this role? No matter how one viewed it, he definitely wasn't the most charismatic, nor the most confident member of The Phantom Syndicate. He could think of at least ten others who would've filled the role of the spokesperson much better, one of those ten being the guy standing right next to him.

Fortunately, a hero saved him from having to introduce the group, although in a not quite optimal way. That hero being Backdraft and the "not quite optimal way" being asking them who they are. Technically, that would've been a great opportunity to do what he had to do, but Mr. Go had explicitly ordered to not interact with any heroes. Not during their first public appearance, not when they wanted to make a good first impression and see how things worked in situations like these.

Eagle-owl's voice pulled Izuku from his shock. "I recommend using plan C. You do know plan C, right? Plan Phantom?"

"We do." The muffled voice of Kazama could be heard behind Izuku. Everyone turned their attention to him. "Does Shadow know what to do?"

"Yes, Achilles, we do." Someone replied, and a silent countdown started in everyone's head as soon as those words were spoken. Ten. Nine. Eight. Everyone had ten seconds to get ready, no more and no less. Ten seconds would be more than enough to distance themselves from the building.

Izuku knew Plan Phantom very well. It was the escape plan they had practiced the most, not only because it was the one most likely to be needed but also because it was the least embarrassing out of the four. If you had to leave, leave with style, Go had explained in all seriousness, and although Izuku still wasn't quite sure if the man had been joking at the time or not, he was admittedly right.

Three. Two. One. Zero. He took a step forward and then another, made his way through the crowd as fast as he could, then slowed down once he was on the other side of the road, on-lookers acting like a wall between Kazama and him and the pro-heroes. Coming to a stop, he turned around and faced the civilians, all probably friends and family and neighbors of the fire victims. Before Backdraft could question what he was doing, he was already bowing, thanking the crowd and at the same time apologizing. Apologizing for any mistakes they had possibly made as inexperienced heroes with no proper training.

Go had told him to be confident but not narcissistic, down to earth but not too casual. Izuku had to practice with him for at least a month before he could get over his fear and embarrassment and act the way he was supposed to. Now all that was down the drain, just because he had let himself get emotional.

Nevertheless, he couldn't allow himself to get distracted. Plan Phantom was in order.

The idea of plan Phantom actually originated from Takako Shimizu, a middle schooler with arguably not much experience in leading revolutions, but definitely a lot of experience in arguing. Her mom worked as a sidekick, a fact that was always used to justify her over the top, flamboyant, often unreasonable ideas. A lot of The Phantom Syndicate members were against Plan Phantom, telling her (with good reason) that magic tricks would make their whole cause seem childish and non-serious, but due to the syndicate being a democracy, Plan Phantom won 57 against 55 and was chosen as their Plan C.

Light blue smoke swirled around their legs and rose to their chests, surrounding and slowly engulfing them, hiding everything from the public's eyes.

It was safe to assume they had become invisible once they themselves couldn't see anything through the smoke. Izuku started sprinting down a back alley, racing Kazama into the darkness. While running, both of them stripped off their costumes, clasping their clothes to their chests as they turned right at the next fork in the road.

"Deku and Achilles, you may stop now. They don't seem to be pursuing you. Shadow, you guys are doing a great job as well. I'd consider plan Phantom a success."

"Thanks, Eagle-owl." Kazama panted as he started slowing down, his pace not much faster than a casual jog at that point. "Midoriya, what was that?"

"What was what?" Izuku turned his head towards the taller boy, then realized what he meant. "Oh, right. The bow from before. I… I got overwhelmed, I guess. We really did it. We made our first appearance, and it was a success – you heard what Eagle-owl said."

"It was cool, wasn't it?" Whilst Kazama spoke, he grabbed a conveniently placed backpack beside a trash can. There were two long-sleeved T-shirts and two pairs of jeans inside, both soon being replaced by tight black clothes.

"Y-yeah… I can't wait to hear what Mr. Go thought about us."

"Boss? Who cares about the boss, the important thing is what the news will say!" Kazama grinned, running his hand through his silver hair. "We're the mysterious phantom heroes, they'll love us!"

"Two new heroes made their debut during a fire in Musutafu today. While other pro-heroes were busy trying to keep the flames under control, they rushed into the burning building and removed the victims who were stuck inside. Their quirks are unknown as of now, but what we do know is that they rescued more than thirty victims from the burning house in the span of nineteen minutes."

Izuku raised his eyebrows and got closer to the television. So they hadn't noticed them switching places all the time. As a matter of fact, not two but forty-seven syndicate members had shown up at the place of the incident, each one only going into the burning building once, in the company of another person, staying for no longer than one and a half minutes at most. Mr. Go had come up with this idea to ensure everybody's safety, but in the end, it turned out to be a method that was not only safe but also efficient.

The scene on the TV screen changed to a nicely dressed interviewer standing in front of the ruins. He was standing next to an old woman with a huge nose – Izuku remembered seeing her in the front rows of the crowd of onlookers.

"Ma'am, you witnessed the incident first hand, correct?"

'Ma'am' smiled into the camera and nodded with such enthusiasm it let Izuku believe this interview was truly one of the highlights of her life. "Yes." Before the interviewer could ask her another question, she already carried on: "But I don't trust those shady 'anonymous' saviors. They didn't even properly introduce themselves, and they escaped as soon as Backdrafter started a conversation. I-"

"Yes, that is another detail the people keep talking about." The interviewer paused for a second just to repeat the woman's gestures and nod. "According to popular opinion, the thing that makes this debut particularly interesting is how unwilling the new 'heroes' appeared to be about having to introduce themselves. There are multiple theories about why that's the case. The more beloved ones among those include-"

The old woman spoke like a university professor while looking like the typical gossipy old woman who came up with the wildest conspiracy theories: "I personally believe it's because they were the ones responsible for the fire. You see, that's why they were so prepared, because they knew what was going to happen."

Izuku almost snorted in his surprise. He had expected theories like 'the heroes are actually deaf' or 'they want to build up an image of the introverted, lone-wolf heroes' but this clearly exceeded his expectations. It's not like they had been prepared for any kind of catastrophe. They had planned everything very carefully, had discussed their plans for days until they had perfected it.

"The lady's theory does sound like a logical assumption, though..." Izuku mumbled to himself. He would have to address the issue at tomorrow's meeting, tell Mr. Go they needed to work harder to gain the people's trust.

Inko Midoriya's concerned voice harshly interrupted his thoughts. "Honey, what happened to your arm?" She was standing at the door, leaning against the wooden surface holding a laundry basket.

"Oh..." He glanced at the dark red stain on his sleeve. The cut he had gotten from that glass shard. It was a minor detail not worth remembering, at least not compared to the rest of the experience he had had barely two hours ago. Now that he was paying attention to it, it did seem to hurt a bit, but it clearly hadn't been bad enough to distract him from escaping the scene, meaning it couldn't be that big of a deal. "I- I think I injured it while hanging out with Kazama this afternoon..."

His mom's forehead was wrinkled in a weak frown. "You two aren't doing anything dangerous together, are you?"

Izuku shook his head and put on a smile. In the last few months, he had gotten quite used to lying to his mom about such trivial, insignificant things. Both he and Kazama were well aware that Mrs. Midoriya didn't quite trust the older boy, no matter how grateful she was for him being there for Izuku.

"Take care, alright? Don't let him persuade you into things you don't want to do just because he'll be your upperclassman next year."

"Kazama isn't like that, Mom. Don't worry." He answered, then looked back at the TV screen, only to see himself. Well, a recording of him, running out of the building with a man thrown over his shoulder. It was obvious that the figure in the video was having trouble with the weight of the man, and it didn't look half as cool as Izuku had felt when exiting the building just a few hours ago.

A small noise could be heard coming from his mother. She hadn't recognized him, had she? Mothers were supposedly good at this, right? At recognizing their children?

"Have you found a new favorite hero?" She flashed a knowing smile and continued even after Izuku shrugged. "...Do you know what this video reminds me of? All Might. The recording of him that you used to watch all the time as a little kid. Gosh, nothing has changed after all."

How should he respond to that? A lot had changed. Mainly Izuku himself, but that wasn't the point. He did a double-take and saw all the similarities, however big or small, between the video of him and that of All Might.

The smoke hood and the mask hid his face, including his mouth. Izuku himself knew that he hadn't been smiling when this was filmed. But what mattered is that he had saved someone. An organization of quirkless people had saved several innocent civilians, and even if only for one and a half minutes, each one of them had been a hero.

All Might and Bakugou Katsuki and all his former classmates were wrong. And they too would notice it sooner or later. Once Izuku was saving people with a smile on his face, the pros and the bullies and everyone else would recognize that everyone could be a hero, even 'quirkless rejects' like him. Because people who did this job without expecting payment were the actual heroes, not some hypocrites starring in shampoo commercials while assuring the public they'll protect everyone. The Phantom Syndicate would revolutionize this flawed society.

"So, what's his name?" His mom put down the laundry basket on the coffee table and sat down beside Izuku. "And his quirk?"

"We- We don't know yet. He's been kind of secretive so far." Izuku replied with a small smile on his face. "But he and his partner are really cool in my opinion... They have potential, don't you think?"

"They sure do." After gently stroking his hair, Izuku's mom got up and grabbed the basket full of fresh clothes again. "Treat your small injury, alright? Also, don't forget to study, Izuku. You should still get a good score on the high school entrance exam, even if it's just a municipal high school and not U.A."

Nodding, Izuku waited for his mom to leave before he took the TV remote and turned off the television. As soon as the image of the interviewer and the woman disappeared, he reached for the yellow backpack positioned at the corner of the sofa. Inside the bag were his hero analysis notes. He hadn't spent much time writing entries in the last few weeks, considering he was busy training all day ever since the school year ended. Nonetheless, there were still a few new heroes that had been perpetuated on paper by him. Heroes like Achilles, the Shadows, and Eagle-owl.

His fingers shakily turned the pages, skimming through dozens of entries until he found the right one. The one titled Deku. He had drawn some hero costume designs in the bottom left corner – some of them were still from the days when he wanted to attend U.A. and become a professional hero. While those certainly looked cool, they weren't all too practical when working as a group, as one syndicate member out of the 112. Go had instructed them to not make their costumes too flashy and to stick to dark colors like black, brown, or gray. Izuku had more or less followed his advice with his newer designs, except for a thin white mask covering the area around his eyes and snow-white gloves. Other than that, everything else was either gray or black: a gray mask to hide the lower part of his face, black hoodie, black trench coat, and black pants.

He wasn't quite sure how he would get his hero costume, nor how he would hide it from his mother. Izuku really wasn't the type of person to wear a trench coat casually, and it's not like using parts of his costume as everyday wear would've been a good idea anyway.

Although hesitantly, he fished out his phone from his pocket and unlocked it. There weren't any new messages except for a short text from Go asking if he had gotten home safely. He quickly typed a reply, then took a photo of his costume design and sent it as well.

As soon as it was sent, he put his phone and notebook away and went to his room, supposedly to study.

Cacophonous ringing woke Izuku the next day. Reluctantly, he raised his head from his pillow and reached for his buzzing phone. Kazama was calling him. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he picked up and held the device to his ear.

"Hello?"

"The meeting has been preponed. It turns out Boss has work today. Get to the Suzuki house as soon as possible and call others to inform them as well. This is an important conference and everybody who participated yesterday should be here."

Izuku distanced the phone from his face to look at the time. "It's… It's four in the morning, are you crazy?"

"Mr. Go's shift starts at half-past six, no I'm not crazy. You of all people should attend, you and I were the ones on the news after all." Kazama sounded just as tired as Izuku felt. Had he been awake when he got a call from Go?

"You don't expect 47 people, mostly teens and young adults, to go to the house of two elderly ladies in the middle of the night and not look suspicious?" Although pursing his lips, Izuku rolled out of bed and sluggishly crawled over to his closet.

"Well, no, but we don't expect all 47 people to come either. Besides, eleven of us are already here."

"Fair enough. I'll be there in twenty minutes." He grabbed a pair of jeans and a pullover and started changing, not even bothering to turn on the lights in his room first. It would only wake his mother up. Hopefully, he would be back before dawn and avoid having to explain himself.

Outside his room, he made an extra effort to move as quiet as possible. His mom was a light sleeper. He put on his jacket and his shoes and opened the door extra slowly as if it wouldn't creak that way.

After running down the apartment complex's stairwell, he started walking east, down the street and left at the next intersection. The way to the Suzuki sisters' house was all too familiar by now. Izuku swore he would've found the small building in less than fifteen minutes, even if he was to be blindfolded beforehand. He had visited it regularly in the last three months – the Hakaru Go residence was being renovated and thus couldn't be used as a headquarter.

While walking, he pulled out his phone and opened his list of contacts. He had the phone numbers of Takako Shimizu, Nozomi Azuma, and Juichi Furuta, despite never actually talking to them outside of meetings. He tapped one name and waited for his phone to dial. After successfully waking up Furuta, he moved on to Shimizu and finally Azuma, who had already been notified by another syndicate member as it had turned out. Izuku decided to stop after that. Having talked to two people would be enough, hopefully.

He got to the house in twelve minutes. His destination, an average-sized house built in a traditional style and with a relatively big garden, looked more magical and inviting than usual, the lights inside making it stick out from the sea of dull, dark houses. It was a quiet neighborhood, no one was awake at this time.

Akiara Suzuki's voice answered the doorbell and let him into the garden, then a few seconds later into the house as well.

"Izuku-chan! It's nice to see you. Come in. I watched the news, you looked great!" It was genuinely impressive how Ms. Akiara managed to say all that in one breath. She pulled the green-haired boy into a suffocating hug.

"It's nice to see you too, Ms. Suzuki…" Izuku's smile mirrored the one of the woman in front of him. As soon as she let him go, he rushed over to the wooden table in the middle of the living room and sat down beside his gloatingly grinning friend.

"Would any of you like a cup of coffee?" Ms. Akiara inquired while returning to the kitchen. Her sister didn't seem to be around. Perhaps Hekima got the privilege of sleep this time. "Hakaru-chan really messed with you kids by calling you in this early."

"I'm afraid I had no other choice. Please forgive me." Mr. Go sighed. It was only now Izuku noticed him, sitting on the other side of the table, which was weird, considering what a presence the man usually had in the room, no matter when and where. Now that he thought about it, Izuku couldn't help but notice how tired the man actually was. The smell of coffee around him was even stronger than usual, assuming it was coming from him and not from the kitchen.

"Can we start, now that Midoriya's here?" A woman asked. "The late arrivals can be filled in after Go leaves for work."

"That's alright with me." Kazama leaned back and cleared his throat. "First things first: I think we all agree that the fire rescue was a success. Many were saved and our identities weren't revealed. We don't really need to discuss that any further. What's more important is what we'll do next."

"No, we should discuss the fire rescue first." Azuma grimaced. "Smoke bombs just aren't a good method of escape. Sure, we got away with it this time, but they'll find the used smoke bombs eventually and they'll know the trick after a while. Besides, we never know when we can be located during our escape with the help of someone's quirk. Like it or not, bystanders are risky."

"She's right." Go looked at Izuku and smiled. "Also, we can't forget about Midoriya's bow. It was actually a blessing in disguise… Our escape would be even more controversial if he hadn't shown some humility. Good job, kid." He raised his arm and gave the boy a thumbs-up. "On the other side, it's clear that when it came to the way we present ourselves to the public, we messed up. Plan Phantom wasn't supposed to look like we were fleeing from Backdraft. Next time, we need to have control over the situation. I know we're admittedly at a disadvantage, yet-"

Kazama interrupted him by suddenly standing up and leaning on the table. "But we don't have to be at a disadvantage, it isn't set in stone! I know you've said no to this before, Mr. Go, but firearms would change everything, our chances would improve. The die isn't cast, the real revolution hasn't begun yet!"

Izuku looked up at the silver-haired boy in surprise. He had never seen him this worked-up before, his actions were sudden and unexpected – as far as he knew, Kazama had never mentioned guns in a meeting before.

Akiara set down a cup of coffee in front of Kazama. "Yuuma-chan, calm down, dear. Mr. Go has his reasons for disapproving. Guns are extremely hard to get anyway."

"Guns? Mrs. Fujimori could easily get some, she's been working as a hobby-vigilante for years now." Shimizu mentioned nonchalantly as she stepped into the living room, having arrived just a few seconds ago. One would've never been able to tell that it was four in the morning from looking at the fourteen-year-old girl. She didn't look the slightest bit tired or unwilling to be here. She practically radiated energy.

"See?" Kazama motioned towards the brunette while still maintaining eye contact with a pondering Hakaru Go.

"It's not just that. Some of you are still quite inexperienced, not to mention that there might be one or two groups in TPS we can't trust. Besides, some people only joined the organization after being told that they, simple, everyday people, could make a change as well. They'd consider guns and other kinds of weapons cheating. I don't want the syndicate to lose members. Anyway, I myself think guns are a bit too much."

"Oh please, as if heroes wouldn't have support items as well. That's not cheating. As for the other thing, I've already expressed how 112 people are too many. We can't trust half of them." Kazama spat.

That was followed by a long silence. Kazama had the right arguments. He'd always been a smart guy, but Izuku could tell he had thought long about proposing this idea, he had come up with a plan to get everyone on his side.

However, Izuku still wasn't sure about this whole thing. Guns were an outdated thing – they had been more useful back when quirks hadn't been a thing yet. But that fact had the potential to add to the gun's effectiveness: firearms brought the element of surprise into play at this point. Then again, people would get used to it if they depended on them all too often.

"I… I do think that guns would certainly help us, even if a little bit. In the end, it's worth the risk. The determined have what it takes to lead a revolution, right? And the rest, the indecisive ones, will be left behind and will suffer the consequences. Everyone should make up their mind, sooner rather than later." He spoke up and immediately felt everyone's gaze on him. Using Hakaru Go's words against him was a dangerous thing.

As if that had been the last straw, Go let out an exasperated sigh and glanced at Izuku, eyebrows raised, his surprise (and disappointment?) obvious from the look in his wide eyes. Perhaps he had expected Izuku to be his alley in this fight against guns. Apropos guns. Why was Go even against them if he was okay with all the other crimes they were going to commit? That was something Izuku would never understand – the man had such a strange moral code. His line between good or bad was a wave. Recently, he had been sounding indecisive about carrying through some risky plans, as if he hadn't decided whether or not this revolution was worth the sacrifice they all had to make. Izuku wondered if there was something or someone that had changed his mind. He was still afraid Go was just waiting for the right moment to arrest them all.

"Fine. We'll vote. But if we do decide to use guns, we'll only use them on villains. Using them to threaten pro-heroes or other influential figures in our deeply flawed society is out of the question. Let alone innocent civilians. Such weapons will give us power, and anyone who uses their power for the wrong thing is a villain." Mr. Go seemed to have regained his composure. He wasn't looking at Izuku anymore, but at the middle of the table. "So. There are currently thirty-one of us present. Who is against guns?"

Go himself, along with eight other people, raised his hand. One of the eight lowered it again after seeing they were the minority.

"That makes eight, then. Who is for using guns?"

Izuku's hand shot in the air, along with twenty-two others'. He could see Kazama grin in the corner of his vision.

"I guess it's decided. The Phantom Syndicate will be using guns. Shimizu, I trust you'll contact Mrs. Fujimori? Tell her we need fifteen handguns. That's all we can afford at the moment, and only the ones in the higher ranks are trustworthy enough to get firearms currently."

"Okay." Shimizu nodded enthusiastically. Izuku wasn't sure if that was due to being tasked with the job of getting guns or because Shimizu herself would most likely be among the ones getting guns. He couldn't decide which option would have been worse.

Go continued. "Alright. Now that we have arranged that, let's return to what I originally wanted to say. Getting known among the population and becoming popular and beloved. As you all know, we want to be heroes who do all jobs the civilians ask of us, no matter how big or small. That's why we have to advertise ourselves. Graffiti and posters are two possible methods to do that. I decided to go with both options." While he spoke, Ms. Akiara retrieved a bunch of light blue papers and started handing them out to everyone. They were all fliers and posters with various things written in huge, bold black letters. As it seemed, each exemplar had its own unique text, but it all boiled down to the same message.

The one Izuku had been given read the following:

'_Need help with anything? The Phantom Syndicate will gladly help you out, without expecting anything in return! We're your local, small-time heroes, at your service 24/7. Give us a try!'_

Below the paragraph was a picture of Izuku that had been shown on TV, the one with him waving at the crowd. A telephone number was written under it, the numbers the same size as the letters at the top of the sheet.

Izuku's fingers brushed against the picture of him while a smile crept onto his face. So it had finally come.

The Phantom Syndicate was officially active.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hey there! I'm sorry it took me a bit longer to update this time, I kinda injured my hand right after the holidays (on the plus side, I now have a scar on my pinky that looks a bit like Izuku's)... But it's here now, and Todoroki is in it!**_

_**Have fun reading it! :)**_

Izuku was tired. Very, very tired. The kind of tired one is after rescuing a bunch of people from a burning building, running a mile, and then having to wake up after just five hours sleep. What made it much, much worse was the fact that it all wasn't over yet.

He recognized the black Audi from somewhere, and he was sure that it shouldn't be parked in front of his house, but for the love of all gods out there, he just couldn't remember who the car belonged to. At least he could recognize the driver when he stepped closer and leaned over the hood of the car to see better. His vision was blurry, black spots dancing before his eyes, the feeling that he could pass out any minute from sleep-deprivation hanging over his head threateningly, but he was absolutely certain that it was Hakaru Go looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"Can you please get in, kid? I need to talk to you."

While trying to rub the sleep from his eyes with the help of his wrists, Izuku evaluated his options with the limited decision-making skills one usually has in the exhausted state of mind he was in right now. "I… Excuse me for asking this, but why?" He blurted out at last, then continued stammering about his mother, Go's shift, and his bed before eventually trailing off.

He was already on his way to dozing off right in the middle of the street when the sound of a car engine starting pulled his conscience back from the realm of dreams.

"Please, Midoriya? It's important." Go raised his voice to still be audible despite the running engine. Izuku had never heard the man on the brink of yelling before, and he couldn't help but think that his mentor sounded quite unnatural and just a tiny bit ridiculous this way.

But Izuku had also spent enough time with Hakaru Go to know that he wasn't throwing the phrase 'it's important' around like it meant nothing for him. When he said something was important, it actually was, and he probably wasn't going to start exaggerating now of all times. Another factor adding to his credibility was the fact that he was willing to drive the green-haired boy around. In the last few months, Go had only invited people into his car 'to talk' four times, as far as Izuku knew, and all four of those times he only did it due to the importance of the matter.

Besides, what else could Izuku do if not getting into the car? It's not like he could run into his house like a coward, or give his boss a pathetic spiel and make excuses until he leaves. He had no choice in the first place.

At last, he opened the door the backseat, watching a gentle smile spread on Hakaru Go's face through the rear view mirror as he climbed inside. Before he could say anything or at least fasten his seat-belt, the car already set in motion.

"Alright. First things first, I wanted to tell you you did a good job yesterday. I hope you're aware of that." Go's voice wasn't the usual, disgustingly sweet tone he'd use to flatter people. This was a genuine compliment to Izuku, one that his mentor must've considered 100% well deserved.

Izuku had to avert his gaze before Mr. Go saw the huge, happy smile and his rosy cheeks. "Thank you... So, uh, what did you want to talk to me about?"

The man seemed to think about his next sentence, perhaps carefully choosing his words, trying to formulate the most convincing speech. He gripped the steering wheel tightly while keeping his eyes fixated on the road, as if he didn't even want to risk making eye contact with the teen sitting behind him. Forced to bear the silence, Izuku had time to lean back and take in every other sensation in the automobile. The coffee smell typical for Go trying to get overridden by the small air freshener tree's basic aroma coming from the mirror, the feeling of the heated leather seat under his palm, the gust of cold wind that hit his face every time he leaned too close to the almost-completely-closed car window. Tidy car seats with absolutely no speck of dirt on them, empty car trunk, and neatly organized driving papers sitting in the open glove compartment. This car had almost no tell-tale signs of its owner's character. To be fair, Go didn't have any either. It's as if he was wearing a mask at all times, careful not to give away any information about his real self, his personality, and his private life.

"I like the outfit idea you sent me. I find it quite cool. You have my permission to use it as a hero costume. Actually, you should buy the materials today if you happen to have time." Go spoke at last, obviously attempting to set the mood to that of a casual conversation before beginning with the actual topic.

Izuku shrugged, but stayed alert, careful not to let himself be swayed through senseless compliments. "I figured having an open layer of clothing – the trench coat – over casual clothes would make escaping or hiding or melting into the crowd much easier."

"Well, that should certainly be convenient for a while, before people get used to the other parts of your costume and start looking for a person in a black hoodie, that is. We might need to use a second, flashier costume over the first one if you want to disappear into the crowd of onlookers like that." Dark eyes were now observing Izuku through the rear view mirror, squinting when the short boy didn't pay them much attention and returned to looking out the window. "Oh, by the way. I finished another one of your hero analysis notebooks. Could you give me the next one at tomorrow's meeting?"

"Uh...sure. I'm running out of them, though, I only have two left for you to read, Sir."

Go left out a small laugh that made Izuku grimace. "That's alright. You'll just tell me the new observations you make about heroes in person. By the way, you do know you are extraordinarily observant and smart, right, Midoriya? Those notebooks are definitely something special."

Izuku leaned a little closer to hear the manipulative sweetness in Go's voice, but he couldn't find it. It sounded truly affectionate and friendly. His first guess was that Go had learned to mask the obvious signs of his manipulation tactics in front of him.

"Which high school did you say you are applying to, again?"

That took Izuku by surprise, and he was too tired to find the right answer in his head for a long five seconds. "Musutafu Municipal Upper Secondary School. The same high school Kazama is attending."

"But you wanted to go to UA originally, right? It has a General Education course too, you could probably get in there despite being quirkless." So that was what Go had wanted to talk about. He needed Izuku to attend UA, for whatever reason.

"I don't know, it doesn't seem like worth the effort. The school is known for its hero course, its general education is nothing special. Might as well go to a normal school full of somewhat normal people who won't look down on me for being born." Izuku raised his arms in front of his chest defensively while flashing a lopsided, awkward smile.

Go slowed down the car, just to be able to turn to Izuku and look him in the eyes. "Just… Consider it, please? You still have a few weeks time to think about it. Having someone close to the heroes would make for a huge advantage, and the fact that you're at the '1st-year high schooler' age is quite convenient, not to mention how your intelligence helps a lot, too."

Izuku didn't like this. No, he didn't like this at all. He didn't want to be 'convenient', he wanted to be valued for his actual skills and that alone. Not to mention how long it had taken him to come to terms with the fact dreaming about UA's hero course was a waste of time, or how insufferable Kacchan had been when he officially gave up on it all. If UA high school was filled with people like Kacchan, he never wanted to set foot into that school.

"Didn't you say just an hour ago that some people only joined the organization when you convinced them that quirkless people could make a change too, and that those people would consider guns cheating? If guns are cheating, what are spies in the country's best hero school?"

That seemed to throw Go off his rhythm. "...Don't bring the guns into this, Midoriya. UA was just a suggestion, I won't force it upon you. I do encourage you to think about it, though." He turned back around with a defeated sigh, just now noticing the time displayed on the screen of the car's GPS. It was almost six o'clock. Only half an hour before his shift started. "How about we drop the topic and get to the important part?"

Izuku pressed his lips together into a thin line and frowned, giving Go a curt nod to tell him to continue. So UA hadn't been the main reason for this talk? Despite saying it was important, Go had sure waited a long time to get to the point. Way to make people question your seriousness.

"I have a… Well, a mission of sorts for you."

Izuku looked away from the houses and shops they were driving past. "A mission?"

Whether due to his tiredness or his survival instinct, Izuku wasn't all too stoked about a mission. On the contrary, a thousand small alarm bells went off in his head at the word, nausea taking over him while he waited for Go to explain. The man had never before referred to jobs or tasks as missions. This must've seriously been something big Izuku wasn't sure he was capable of doing. Well, definitely not now, at least.

Mr. Go cleared his throat. "We have to start preparing for our first big_ thing _sooner or later. Sooner rather than later. And we'll need a well-thought-out plan. Preferably a flawless one. Like I've already mentioned, you're a smart and observant kid, and that's why I consider you the best candidate to come up with a rough plan to start with."

Being a quirkless vigilante hero was an awful lot of work. Izuku had known that since the beginning, but it was now he realized that working as an organization would sometimes make things even harder. He had to do some things he didn't want to do, things that didn't always make sense to him. Then again, the benefits outweighed the risks and all the other negative aspects, there was no reason to be discontent about it. Right? "What do you mean by big thing? What are we planning to do?"

"Endeavor is getting a statue. Its sponsor is a huge fan of the guy, the whole thing is supposed to be made from some very expensive materials." Go stated, casually pulling into the parking lot of a coffee shop filled to the brink with customers. "He's for sure one of the most controversial pro-heroes. Well, definitely the most famous controversial hero. And that makes him a good starting point."

"So you're planning to steal the statue?" Izuku asked, while trying his best to ignore a little voice at the back of his mind yelling at him to get out of the car, order five espressos and down them before going home to sleep. "And what exactly am I supposed to do, then? Get building plans and such?"

"Not quite, but close. What I need you to do is collect information. Any information that might come in handy. Research Endeavor until you know everything about him, figure out what the best way to transport a statue is, learn all about disguises and about statue unveiling ceremonies. Become a good vigilante by becoming an omniscient thief first." The car stopped after Go had parked. He got out of the car and opened the car door on Izuku's side for him. "I recommend you start at the library. Considering it doesn't open for another hour or two, you still have time to get coffee and call your mother beforehand." Placing a hand on the short boy's shoulder and giving it an encouraging squeeze, he wished him luck and said his goodbyes before getting back into the car and driving off, leaving a speechless, confused, but most of all tired Izuku behind.

He didn't even have the chance to voice his opinions on the matter. Assuming Izuku had understood it correctly and the car ride wasn't some weird fever dream of his, he was supposed to stalk Japan's number two hero and forge a plan on how to commit a faultless crime, that crime being theft from said number two hero.

Best to focus on the task ahead and only deal with your problems when you have no other choice. Endeavor and any illegal activities would have to wait till Izuku was coffee-fueled and fully functional. The sky was still dark blue with a thin stripe of lighter blue at the bottom of the horizon. Considering it was early March, it was a relatively normal thing for 6:18 in the morning, but Izuku was still unhappy about all the darkness. His brain automatically associated that with sleep, and he was already having trouble not collapsing at the spot even without that tiny detail.

As soon as he set off towards the coffee shop, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. The fact he hadn't noticed it earlier turned out to be a wonder, taking the six missed calls from his mom into consideration. He quickly pressed the small, green phone icon on the screen and held the small device to his ear. "Mom! Hey, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you I was heading out, I didn't want to wake you up! I decided to head out with some friends, I hope it's okay… If not, I'll go home right away."

He knew his mom would calm down the more he spoke, so he kept on mumbling for another dozen seconds until he was out of breath. By that time, his mother's voice had been reduced to a worried but gentle murmur. "No, no, it's okay, you don't have to come home, Honey! I was just concerned about you when I found your room empty. Please do leave me a notice next time around, though."

"I will! Again, I'm really sorry, Mom."

"When do you plan on coming home? I'm asking to know how much food I should cook." His mom tried to salvage the awkwardness with a gentle laugh, something that didn't help much with the conversation going downhill but certainly made Izuku smile.

"I'm not sure yet. Probably pretty late. I can just grab something to eat on my way home, I think I should have enough money." Izuku stuck his free hand into the pocket of his jacket and felt around, looking for some change. He hadn't exactly been preparing for spending the whole day in the city when he'd gotten dressed at four in the morning.

By the time he emptied all his pockets, he had found around 2000 yen in coins. Both he and his mother deemed that to be enough, and he could soon hang up after assuring his mother he'll take care of himself.

Forty-five minutes and one and a half cups of coffee later, Izuku was sitting on a park bench in front of one of Musutafu's libraries, anxiously glancing at his phone's clock every ten seconds. The energy rush he'd gotten from the coffee worked wonders when it came to restoring his usual, old bubbliness.

He had already used a ballpoint pen he'd found in the back pocket of his jeans to write a to-do list for that day on his palm. It mostly included topics he wanted to look up in the library, but there were also things like _'look for fabric suitable for mask (and maybe second costume?)'_ and _'call Go to ask about the flyers' distribution (don't volunteer to do it yourself)'_, his personal favorite being _'buy something for Mom if you have __enough __time and money'._

Of course, he already could've done many of those by now, but he enjoyed having the time to just do nothing for a few minutes. This week had been particularly busy due to their hero debut, and despite it being spring break, he hadn't had much time to himself.

Pouring the last few drops of lukewarm, bitter coffee down his throat, Izuku watched through the library's huge glass windows as the staff members stocked returned books on the shelves and tidied the reading areas. A few finishing touches before they opened in two minutes.

He took his time throwing the empty styrofoam cup into the trash and walking over to the other side of the road where the library's building was located. There weren't many others waiting around besides him – actually, there were none, considering no sane person would wake up at seven in the morning just to stand in front of the library, waiting for it to open. It was a miracle it even _was_ open. Izuku truly couldn't fathom how or why the librarians got up this early in the morning during spring break just to sit around in a practically empty library waiting for people in need of assistance to approach them for the rest of the day. They might as well have started their shifts at ten, it wouldn't have made that big of a difference.

Why was Izuku even complaining, though? Those opening times were certainly a good thing for him.

Inside the library, an old woman with neon-green eyes approached the glass doors and flashed a smile in Izuku's direction. She grabbed a key from the bundle of what looked to be mostly key-chains hanging around her neck and fumbled around with something next to the door something clicked and the doors slowly begun to open. "An early bird, I see. Feel free to come in. Sorry to have kept you waiting."

After profusely thanking her at least fifty times, Izuku slid inside and looked around the huge hall full of bookshelves and tables. He raised his left hand to eye-level and quickly skimmed the list he'd written, trying his best to memorize it. The first thing on it was Endeavor's biographies, of course.

Although it's been a while since Izuku's last time in a library, he could still clearly remember where they kept the books about pro-heroes. That's what he had been reading all the time back then, after all. On his way there, though, a bright red sign to his right got his attention and distracted him.

It was the manga and comics section, filled to the brim with stories about all possible types of heroes, existent or imaginary, hopeless romantics or lonesome fighters. There were a few antique copies from the time before quirks, ones with obvious water damage and a few unusually clean ones, ones that probably weren't touched by anybody ever since they'd arrived in the library.

The memory of Kazama telling him about quirkless comic heroes crossed Izuku's mind and he felt himself being drawn in to the stack of cartoons in front of him. Of course he'd known about them before, but he hadn't read any comics with powerless protagonists, as he didn't see any particular reason why he _should_ read them.

When he'd dreamed of becoming a hero as a kid, he'd undoubtedly seen his quirklessness as an obstacle, but he'd never thought too much about that detail when playing heroes. In all of his games, his quirk had either magically manifested or he as a quirkless hero was able to do everything else the other heroes with superpowers could without any difficulties. Logically, that wasn't realistic at all. The quirkless had clear disadvantages at life that one would be foolish to ignore, especially in the hero business.

They would need to make up for those disadvantages, and guns weren't the only options. In front of him were comics filled with a hundred other alternatives, ideas for gadgets and tricks that they could employ as replacements for superpowers. He could use all these quirkless characters as inspiration.

Izuku reached for a particularly worn-down comic, one where the pages were threatening to fall apart and were somehow stuck together at the same time. It was clearly time for the library to replace it. They probably would've already done that if people were still interested in it.

He had heard about Batman before, a name being thrown around sometimes when discussing pre-quirk-era heroes and quirks themselves. It had also been brought up along with Izuku's name before, once, in a derogatory way, but Izuku couldn't for the life of him remember who had said it. Not like it was important anyway.

The next thing he grabbed was a manga, also pretty old and also in a pretty bad shape. Its title read _Detective Conan_ and it was clear that its protagonist wasn't a superhero. But Izuku recalled Kazama's words of praise for the story and he knew that the manga was more than worth the read, a particular Kaito Kid being in a similar situation to Izuku and all.

Batman and Kid were followed by Robin Hood and some other literary classics in cartoon form. After collecting a dozen comics and manga, Izuku set off towards a table with a computer on it to put down the books there before going to retrieve some Flame Hero biographies.

Quite a few more visitors had gathered in the library while he had been browsing, and it seemed the only free computer was right next to a boy around his age. Perhaps Izuku hadn't taken the fact that spring break was also the perfect time to study into consideration, and that was what ruined his vague estimate on the number of today's visitors in the end.

"You...aren't using the computer, right? Is it okay if I sit here?" Izuku waited patiently for the red-and-white haired boy to look up from his book and nod before placing his books and then his jacket on the desk.

After settling that, he turned on his heel and hurried right to the shelves full of hero-biographies, randomly grabbing seven books about Endeavor, the Flame Hero, carrying the heavy hardcovers back to his other stuff with ease.

The boy next to the computer looked up from his book once more when he returned. Izuku gave him a friendly smile as an apology for disturbing him, but couldn't decide what to do about the surprised and annoyed (or maybe even angry?) look said boy gave him after glancing over the stack of books in his arms.

Had he done something wrong? It was probably inconsiderate on his side to take about twenty books at the same time and pile them all on a desk someone else was also using, but it wasn't against library policy, right? When Izuku looked around, he couldn't see any of the librarians staring daggers at him like the red-and-white boy. The most he got was a sympathetic frown from the neon-eyed lady from before.

After coming out of his initial shock, he took his jacket and folded it over his chair so he had enough space on the desk and could turn on the computer. Candy cane boy was still giving him the side-eye, but he chose to ignore it instead of asking. Anyone growing up around Katsuki Bakugou gets pretty good at ignoring after a while, and Izuku might as well could've considered himself the master of not paying attention to people after more than ten years of 'friendship'.

While he waited for the computer to boot up, he flipped through the first few pages of _The Flame Hero's Rise to the Top Hero Tier – Endeavor's career and life _out of curiosity. After skipping the prologue, the book started off right with _The man behind the mask. _The chapter consisted of thirteen and a half pages, detailing Enji Todoroki's childhood, hero-internships, and family.

Izuku was a big fan of heroes. Truly, he was one of the biggest hero fans if not _the biggest hero fan_. He'd liked practically every pro-hero he had come across in his fifteen years of life. Except for Endeavor. Not that he had hated him for ages now or something, hate wasn't even the right word to describe it. It was more like a distaste or subtle disapproval. Or at least it had been until now.

No matter how hard the book's author tried to sugarcoat things, Enji Todoroki seemed to give off a bad-human-vibe to Izuku through all his actions described in the book. There was nothing explicitly saying he was trash, but Izuku picked up on the subtle clues that one got after carefully examining the colorful photos illustrating the book or second-guessing some questionable things Endeavor had done decades ago.

In the end, Izuku was kind of glad they'd steal from Endeavor. Was he proud of it? No. Was he afraid of him? Yes. Very afraid. But would he ever regret stealing some gold statue with this guy's smug look on its face? Never.

Perhaps this all was just wishful thinking. Endeavor probably wasn't bad at all, it's just what Izuku wanted to believe to justify their actions and make his conscience just a tad bit better. Upon a second look, the man's scowl didn't even look that bad, it might've even been a miscarried smiling attempt.

In the meantime, the computer in front of Izuku had finally turned on. He quickly opened Google and typed in _Enji Todoroki's house. _Having to stalk the guy would probably be a lot easier if he actually knew where he lived, after all. After pictures of a huge, traditional building popped up, Izuku clicked on Google maps and scribbled down the vague area's name that was shown on the screen. There was no exact house address given, for privacy reasons, most likely.

The Todoroki house was followed by _Endeavor family, _hundreds of different pictures depicting the crimson-haired Flame Hero with several smaller, white-and-red haired people. And Izuku had thought his neighbor's hair color was unique. Hah. Then again, the boy sitting next to him did look awfully similar to a little boy standing at Enji Todoroki's feet, anxiously looking at the camera, his left hand running its fingers across the burn mark on his left eye. Right. The burn mark. A scar that happened to be awfully similar to the one the candy cane boy next to him had.

Izuku turned around to get another look at the boy sitting beside him, only to be greeted with the guy glancing back and forth between him and the computer screen with raised eyebrows.

Gosh, it was way too early for Izuku to be this uncomfortable.

_**I'm low-key filled with second-hand embarrassment for Izuku... Oh well.**_

_**Please leave a comment if you have any thoughts on this chapter, I love receiving feedback (that includes constructive criticism, I wanna improve!), comments always make my day.**_

_**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! Thanks for reading!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hey there! I finally finished this chapter (originally wanted to upload it yesterday but oh well) and managed to make it 3200 words instead of 1915! Yay! I know it's still a short chapter, but at least it's something...**_

_**Btw, I made a quick (and very badly-drawn - art is not my forte) sketch of Izuku, or should I say Deku, in his hero/vigilante costume! Here you go, check it out if you want to know what his costume is supposed to look like (and don't care about your eyes hurting from looking at bad art): post/189806729524/my-badly-drawn-version-of-vigilantedeku-from-my**_

This is what fate gave him after he committed himself to becoming an illegal hero, this was the universe's first point on its endless revenge plan. Coincidences like these weren't fortuitous in the slightest, they were planned by gods of mischief and revenge. After all, what were the odds? What were the odds of the syndicate's first victim having a son who just so happened to go to the library when Izuku was investigating his father?

Okay, to be fair, this situation wasn't _that_ embarrassing. Yes, it was unfortunate, but certainly not a hopeless case.

For, after having stared at each other for what felt like ages, Izuku had concluded that the boy across from him didn't even seem that angry. Nor offended. He still had that confused expression on his face, except now the puzzlement had something else to it, something slightly resembling an annoyed or even amused cynicism, like the current scene was just so surreal that he couldn't quite accept it was actually happening.

Neither could Izuku, but the sweat running down the side of his face and his cheeks glowing hot from embarrassment were anything but nonexistent.

He tried to distract himself from it all. Tried to tell himself that there was no reason to get worked up, that it hadn't been his fault in the first place or that he hadn't done anything wrong. After all, he had been looking at pictures of the number two hero. As the number two, Endeavor was one of the most popular pros. It was to be expected he had some fans, and, well, some fans are more curious than others. Then again, that excuse would still make Izuku seem like a weird creep. Not exactly the image he was going for.

Maybe he should try a different approach? Like 'why was his neighbor looking at Izuku's business anyway?'. If not for the 'the guy sitting next to you is his son' part, googling a famous man would be considered a totally normal thing, even if he had gone a little overboard with some minor details. Then again, that privacy argument was childish and it didn't give him the peace of mind he'd expected from it, which more or less rendered it useless. Well, not completely useless, since it did manage to lead Izuku's attention to something else. Something useful. A good idea.

The Batman comic on the table seemed awfully inviting all of a sudden, so much that Izuku simply _had_ to grab it and start reading. Pretending nothing was wrong didn't help much regarding the awkwardness, but at least he didn't have to bear the view of those emotionless, cold eyes anymore, which was a win in his book.

They spent a few moments like this, moments that felt like ages. With Izuku_ staring at _but not _reading_the comic, while the boy looked at him half expectantly – the other half was indistinguishable between pretentiousness and a poor attempt at masking confusion.

A prickling feeling settled in Izuku's stomach before a little voice started hammering at the back of his head, telling him that he couldn't get out of this one by acting ignorant. He had to actually attempt to talk his way out.

And so he did.

"So, uhm… You're a Todoroki, right?" The words slipped out of him right when the red-and-white-haired boy finally decided to turn back to his book – Izuku had always been miserable at timing.

He dared to carefully glance up from the comic's pages for a few short seconds, just to see his neighbor hesitate and think about it, as if he wasn't entirely sure who he was or whether or not the Flame Hero visible on the screen was related to him in any way. The guy was taking way too long coming up with a response. At one point, Izuku even started doubting he was ever gonna reply.

"Yes," followed the curt, deadpan answer, and the green-haired boy nodded in acknowledgment, for lack of a better reaction.

An uncomfortable silence settled over them. Izuku eventually put down the Batman comic and resumed scanning the Endeavor biography, where his eyes were strictly focused on the words in front of him, hoping to avoid even catching a glimpse of the hero's son in the corner of his vision. At some point, he had leaned so close to the book that the black ink had gotten blurry and unreadable. On the plus side, Todoroki couldn't see his embarrassed face with his head buried in the pages.

"Why are you so interested in him?"

Izuku looked up in surprise. His brain didn't comprehend the question at first, and once it did, it couldn't come up with an answer. After all, telling the first person he sees about The Phantom Syndicate's plans didn't seem like a good idea. Any other excuses that came to mind would turn out to be either blatantly obvious or pathetic, which would then raise suspicion.

"I… It's not what it looks like. I swear." He felt like smashing his head against the desk. That was literally the worst thing he could say in this situation. It was blatantly obvious _and_pathetic. And cliche too.

"Not…? So you are _not_ interested in Endeavor, and that's why you're looking up where he lives?" Confusion returned to Todoroki's features, but it was genuine, not quite the 'are you really thinking I'd believe that' kind.

Beginning to mumble, Izuku quickly shut the book in front of him and grabbed the mouse of the computer to close the page which was still filled with pictures of Enji Todoroki's kids. "Well- no, that's not what I meant… I am researching him because- well, because I am interested, but I'm not a creepy fan – well, I'm no fan at all, really… But I'm not saying your father is a bad hero! He's- he's great!" At one point, Izuku had begun to gesticulate wildly, but it had turned into hiding his face behind his hands by now. "I respect him, I do, but- the reason… The reason I looked him up is that a friend asked me to. Yes, a friend asked me to do it because he needs help with a presentation in school. A presentation about pro-heroes. It's their current topic, they have to work on it during the break."

He was almost proud of himself. The excuse wasn't a _complete_ lie, and it did sound halfway reasonable. They had actually done a presentation about their favorite heroes back in elementary school, if he remembered correctly.

Todoroki studied him for a few more seconds, then nodded slowly. "I see."

"I'm… I'm sorry I came off weird… You kind of scared me back there. With you staring over my shoulder and all." Izuku explained. Getting more and more comfortable with his lie, an idea began forming in his head. Although it was definitely a very risky idea, it had the potential to turn into something incredible if it worked.

"It's alright." Turning back to his book in the most disinterested way one could possibly do, Todoroki shrugged. Obviously, the conversation had come to an end as far as he was concerned; he didn't see any reason why he should pay attention to the green-haired boy beside him at this point.

Disregarding that body language, Izuku leaned forward, just a tiny bit closer to Endeavor's son. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but… What's your father like?"

The annoyance was clear in Todoroki's eyes now, unlike before. That was to be expected, though. Questions like this were probably thrown at him every time someone learned about his heritage. But in spite of feeling incredibly bad, Izuku knew that he had to do this. Go would've wanted him to do it. Information coming straight from their victim's family was probably the most reliable, and information was what he needed if he didn't want to become cooked broccoli during his encounter with the Flame Hero.

"He's cool. He helps me train my quirk and everything. Despite mostly being occupied with his job, he still manages to squeeze in some time for me." Todoroki explained absentmindedly, rattling off his (most likely) usual speech in a monotone voice, albeit with a sarcastic undertone.

But something sounded off. Not the monotone; it was a different detail, one that seemed awfully familiar but still unrecognizable to Izuku. That is, until he listened closely.

Perhaps just one tiny part – a word, no, only a vowel – reminded Izuku of Hakaru Go. Go's sweet, gentle, smooth manner of speech, the way every word rolled off his tongue. Like cotton candy and chocolate, mind-numbing and tooth-aching sweetness. Todoroki didn't by any means sound _sweet, _but his voice did seem to have the same effect and maybe even the same intention.

Todoroki was twisting the truth. He was clearly trying to convince Izuku of something that he himself did not believe to be true, not the slightest bit.

How was Izuku supposed to react, though? Tell Todoroki that he knows he's lying, or just accept the response and move on with the conversation, rolling with the boy's spiel? Ask him about it and be stuck listening to a random kid complain about his dad never being the dad he'd wanted?

What would've Go done? Go would've continued interrogating the kid until he knew even the tiniest detail about Endeavor. He'd know about Enji Todoroki's toothpaste brand and his favorite cereal by the end of that conversation.

But Izuku wasn't Go. The best he could've been described as was Go's right-hand man, but he was merely his apprentice. A fresh, inexperienced one, which was why he didn't have the strength to use this situation to his own benefit. Especially since the conversation was already going downhill. All in all, there was nowhere for it to go. No matter what Izuku would say next, he'd mess something up.

And thus, he bailed, like a coward would. Technically it could've been called a successfully carried out escape, because that's what it was, but it wasn't nearly graceful enough to be referred to as anything but a cowardly run.

One could've argued that it was a strategic retreat, since he had gotten everything he'd needed, strictly speaking. There was no need for him to stay any longer, he could just grab the books and go. Staying with Todoroki would eventually turn into a double or nothing situation, where he either collected all the information needed for a successful theft, or blow his cover within seconds and ruin The Phantom Syndicate's plans.

"That sounds nice. It must be awesome to be a pro-hero's son." Izuku forced a bittersweet smile onto his lips while he stood up and collected his books. "I think I'll go now, though, I don't want to annoy you with my Endeavor research. Still, thanks for helping me out. See you around."

Stacking the manga and comics onto the pile of books about the Flame Hero, Izuku flashed one last genuine smile before turning around and heading to the counter to check out the dozens of reading material in his arms.

Now that he had confirmed Endeavor's wrongdoings, he could plan the most brutal theft in history with no bad conscience. It's not what he had been planning to do – he'd originally wanted to learn about Endeavor's weak points through Todoroki, a plan then foiled by the boy's daddy issues – but some motivation to follow through with the plan would satisfy him for now.

Kaito Kid, Robin Hood, and all the others seemed to have an unwritten, vague formula for their crimes. No matter how different all these ancient literary figures were, most of them had pulled off one particular trick at least once in their career as tricksters.

But Izuku had to admit that he wasn't like the heroes in his comics and manga. He wasn't an unnaturally skilled archer, nor a talented magician, let alone a martial artist or a millionaire. Somehow, every quirkless character had some traits that made up for their lack of superpowers, unlike Izuku. It was clear that he was different, that he couldn't just copy these people's tricks and brand himself as a real-life Kid or the Dark Knight of the century. He was Deku, and he had to come up with a suitable persona that fit his abilities and arsenal of tricks.

First off, one thing that even he had to have was continuous resolve and confidence. It was okay to fake it, too, as he had learned from his binge-reading spree. As long as he stayed believable, he'd have credibility and an automatic aura of competence. Of course, confidence was not the first thing that came to mind when one looked at Izuku, but he'd have time to change that. The statue theft wasn't supposed to take place until in seven weeks' time.

And that was it. That's all what he'd need to successfully perform a Bavarian Fire Drill, in theory at least. Confidence, maybe some acting skills, and optionally a crew of helpers – he clearly had the latter, more than thirty people, even if he assumed that not the entirety of TPS would take part.

A Bavarian Fire Drill was a simplistic trick, one that was used even nowadays, despite the existence of methods much more effective that had become popular with the spreading of quirks. The perpetrator would appear on the scene dressed in professional clothing that made him look like a person of authority. He'd order the victims to do something for him, be that bringing him the object he wants to steal or leading him to some secret room. In the best-case scenario, they believed him simply because he appeared authorial and did what he asked without questioning his actions.

It was a good starting point in Izuku's opinion. Maybe the others would help brainstorm some ideas that made the plan more complicated, but the Bavarian Fire Drill would definitely ensure they got into the building the unveiling ceremony would take place in.

Of course, another important detail factored greatly into this plan's success: quirks. So far, Izuku couldn't know who would attend the event, and thus he didn't have the capability to come up with a plan that would effectively eliminate any possible obstacles that would come from the pro-heroes and policemen present.

Endeavor's son would probably be there, it hit him. Izuku felt the sudden urge to punch himself in the head with a pillow. He grabbed his mechanical pencil and quickly wrote _Todoroki = risk of recognition?__ o_n the piece of paper he was using for brainstorming.

A voice changer behind his mask should suffice, it's not like he was supposed to come in contact with anyone there. This theft wasn't supposed to be some grand show where they announced their intentions beforehand and explained the magic trick before leaving when they've managed to steal the statue. That was reserved for some of their later crimes, when they were already well-known and popular. Taking a pro-hero's statue was supposed to have an effect of shock on the civilians who blindly believed society was black and white and your friendly neighborhood vigilante hero organization would play by the rules in this unjust world.

Izuku went over the plan one last time. Reconsidered the logic behind every single move. He had found out where the unveiling ceremony would take place and even managed to get the blueprints of the building by calling a few syndicate members. The list of people attending was on his way to him, as Go had claimed. If no unexpected obstacles were to appear, there was a theoretically high chance that his operation would go smoothly. It would _have_ to go smoothly. He did _not_ want to disappoint The Phantom Syndicate.

The sudden noise of his door opening made Izuku jump in surprise. His mom gave him a worried look. "Everything okay, dear?"

Slowly but surely composing himself, Izuku gave her a tired smile. "Yeah. Just studying."

"Oh." Inko Midoriya's expression softened, her worry lines were replaced by a small smile. "The entrance exam will be about retro comics, I assume?" She made a nodding motion towards the manga stack next to Izuku's bed and walked up to it, just slowly enough to give Izuku time to hide the sheet of paper containing The Phantom Syndicate's heist plans.

"Kazama recommended them to me. They don't distract me though, I promise." Izuku explained quickly.

"I was just joking." His mom chuckled and planted a soft kiss between his green locks. "I just came in to tell you your dad called and said he can't make it home for your first day in school. He is very proud of you, though."

"That's… That's alright." Shrugging, Izuku promptly pushed his notebooks and pencil case off his bed to make space for his mom. She sat down on her son's bed and waited for him to place his head in her lap. It had become a sort of habit for them over the years. They'd used to do it all the time when Izuku was little, and although so much had changed, the comforting feeling that they both got during their little ritual still lingered.

Carefully twisting Izuku's hair between her fingers, Inko let out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, Izuku."

"Don't worry about it, it's not a big deal. It's just another school year, after all." The comforting quietness of the room helped Izuku calm down the thoughts in his mind as well. Her mom's gentle fingers brushing through his hair seemed to brush away all the worries about the heist and the syndicate as well.

"Yes, I suppose it is… You know, Izuku, I'm kind of happy you don't want to become a pro-hero anymore. My… My heart couldn't bear having to worry about you all the time. I really hope you don't mind me saying this, but it's truly hard for a mother to not know when her child will get hurt."

"It's alright, I get what you mean. But… Since we're already talking about it… Do you think I should apply to UA's general education course?" Izuku said in a half-whisper, tentatively testing the waters, just to see how his mother would react.

Panic flashed across her face for a bare millisecond and he realized what a bad idea it had been to ask this.

"I- I probably won't, though. 'Feel like I wouldn't quite fit in. Shimizu was the one who had suggested it in the first place, because of me liking heroes a lot and stuff."

His mom remained quiet, only managing to nod understandingly as a response. UA was ultimately out of the question, then – Izuku would've considered following Go's request if it wasn't for his mom's dislike of the idea.

"It's your decision to make, Izuku. You _should _get some sleep beforehand, though. You still look awfully exhausted. Studying can wait."

Pressing another quick peck on his cheek as a sort of _goodnight_, his mom got up and pulled the blanket up for him, a familiar smile returning to her face. After making sure Izuku actually got into his bed and pulled the covers over himself, she turned off the light in his room and closed the door behind her.

Too bad Izuku had no intention to sleep yet.

_**So! Some good old mother-son bonding with hair stroking? Count me in!**_

_**I know that this chapter was kinda slow and not much happened (besides the Tododeku convo Ig), but now that Todoroki is here, things will actually start happening! :D**_

_**Anyway, thanks for reading this chapter! I hope you liked it. It'd be awesome if you commented, I am in dire need of some feedback. Be it constructive criticism or things you liked/disliked about the chapter, literally anything, a comment always makes my day! :)**_

_**I'll try to update as soon as I can! See you next chapter! ;3**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Oh gosh, it's finally done! I'm really sorry for the wait. I might not be able to upload weekly with school and extracurricular activities overwhelming me. I hope that's okay.**_

_**Anyway, at least we get some Todoroki in this chapter, and things are finally going to become exciting, so yay, I guess? I'll let you decide. I hope you like it!**_

"Have you heard? The Phantom Syndicate was active again. Yesterday." A mop of black hair became visible as the detective lowered the stack of papers in front of his face and extended his arms, handing the documents to the tired and frail man standing in front of his desk. A man with experience and age written in his expression, someone who radiated warmth and energy despite his physical appearance convincing the beholder at first that this person was sick and unusually melancholic. "Saving a woman from blackmail this time. She was too afraid to go to the police due to some shady business she'd been involved in a few years ago – didn't want the cops to arrest her too, so she went to them instead. One of the perpetrators was injured in the leg, the other was found almost a block away tied to a bench."

"So I've heard. You still don't know much about the syndicate, I assume?" Toshinori accepted the pile with a thankful smile and a small bow, expecting an answer with a slightly furrowed pair of eyebrows.

Tsukauchi shook his head, letting his arms drop onto the table and lowering his head between them in a mockingly desperate yet clearly exhausted manner. "Barely anything. They're obviously not licensed, but that's pretty much all we have. Their exact number is unclear, we can only guess what their quirks are, and we're not even close to figuring out anything personal about them, let alone their identities."

"You've been working on the Phantom case for almost a month at this point. Are you sure you don't want heroes to get involved?"

"Vigilantism is their only crime as of now. Even that is unknown to most civilians – no one wants to acknowledge that their actions are illegal. _The Infamous Phantoms, __the Request Heroes_ are topic number one everywhere you look. The public loves them. Anyone openly antagonizing them will be turned into a public enemy right away. Besides, thanks to their anonymity, not even heroes could do much. All we can do at the moment is keep an eye on them and wait. It wouldn't be safe to jump to conclusions and act prematurely."

Toshinori couldn't suppress the small smile creeping onto his face as he leaned onto a chair standing right next to him, looking down to his friend and supporter with a kind of '_Well, __I'm afraid there's not much to be done about that__'_ sort of look. Tsukauchi looked tired, almost as tired as Toshinori himself. He would've liked to say that he'd never seen the detective like this, but that would've been a lie, even though he had to admit that the usual vigilante cases didn't stress him out like this.

Both of them knew very well that he would only need one clue and nothing more. True Man, easily the best detective of the city, would only need one small detail to unravel the string of mystery surrounding this group. Nonetheless, as long as he didn't have that, sitting around and watching was truly the only option, an admittedly frustrating one at that.

"I understand. Still, were you ever to need my assistance, I'd love to help. I owe you so much. It's time I paid back a few favors."

Fresh, freezing morning air prickled Izuku's nose and fingers. Rubbing his hands together in a futile attempt to regain the feeling in his fingertips, he got distracted and was almost left behind by Kazama.

The older boy gave him a disapproving look before coming to a stop to wait for him. Once Izuku finally caught up, he reached into the messenger bag at his side and threw a pair of striped, gray and blue gloves in his direction. "Geez. It's like you've never experienced a cold spring day before."

"Thanks..." A sheepish smile appeared on the green-haired boy's face while he pulled up the sleeve of his gakuran to put on the gloves. "To be fair, one doesn't expect April to be this cold when March was filled with sunny, pleasant days."

Kazama let out a hearty laugh, but that eventually ended, the sounds of the street replacing it as comfortable buzzing in Izuku's ear. The pair skipped along the sidewalk in silence for a short while, just casually observing the houses and cats they strolled past.

"Actually, I-"

"Shhh." Izuku hissed.

"Huh?"

"Just- Just stay quiet for a second. It's important." Izuku whispered, looking at something in the corner of his vision.

Kazama didn't seem to get the sudden change in the atmosphere. "Why? Is something up? Is… Is it that blond sourpuss over there?"

"No, he-"

"Oi, Deku!" Bakugou stood at a front door five buildings apart from them. As soon as he seemed to have noticed the two, small, crackling, and popping explosions erupted from his wrist.

Izuku didn't flinch. Kazama did.

"Wait, how does he know your hero name? Do you know the guy? Could he have followed you to the group's conferences?" He desperately threw furious questions at Izuku, eyeing the spiky-haired boy suspiciously as he approached them with an arrogant grin on his face.

Wait. Katsuki Bakugou had UA's uniform on. He'd made it into the top hero school of the country. Of course he had. Izuku hadn't expected anything less. Still, it unleashed a handful of suppressed bitterness in his stomach, doubts he thought to have forgotten long ago coming back to the surface. Voices telling him he could've made it into the general education course with ease. _He should've gone to UA __too__._

"Finally came to terms with your status as a quirkless reject, huh, Deku? I see you're attending a school filled with other useless nobodies again." Kacchan growled, feasting his eyes on the _averageness_ of their uniforms.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kazama, who seemed to have recovered from his shock fairly easy, took a step towards Bakugou, despite Izuku's best attempts at stopping him. "Well, if it isn't my _favorite_ hero, the one who treats normal citizens like crap! Seriously dude, you gotta work on that attitude of yours. It'd be a wonder if you'd pass your hero license exams with such a trash personality."

"And who's this extra supposed to be?" The blond furrowed his brows.

"Yuuma Kazama, another 'quirkless reject', to your service." Izuku could see the competitive gleam in Kazama's eyes; he knew right away this wouldn't end well. "I'd be happy to beat your-"

"Actually, we have to go. Don't want to be late on the first day of school… Congrats for getting into UA, though, Kacchan! See you around!" Izuku started forcefully pushing Kazama down the street, trying to ignore Bakugou's yells and the blasts of the small explosions sent their way.

"Yeah, bye Kacchan!"

"I'll kill you, you damn brat!"

"Can't wait for your debut as the hero with 100% victim mortality rate!"

Izuku gave his upperclassman a particularly powerful shove, almost making him stumble. "Can we just go, please?"

Once they were out of earshot, Kazama turned to him. "Who was this guy, anyway? And why did you break up our fight?" At this, he set a sassy hand on his hip, impersonating an annoyed diva. "I could've handled that easily. I take pride in my bad insults."

"Katsuki Bakugou, a childhood friend of mine." Stressing the 'childhood' part with a bittersweet smile, Izuku continued. "He... doesn't like me all too much. Well, you saw it. I… I could've dealt with that alone, though. No need to get yourself mixed up."

"Sorry, Midoriya. But you know how I feel about people who think they're better than others just because of genetics. I don't really like heroes and hero-wannabes in general, I guess."

At that, Izuku raised his eyebrows. "You _are_ a hero."

"You know what I mean. The spoiled, privileged brat kind of pro-heroes. Besides, I like to consider myself a revolutionist rather than a hero, as you should already know. I've mentioned it quite a few times."

"Pretty much every day, yeah."

"Fair enough." Kazama showed off one of his more charming grins. "By the way. I… I feel like I need to clarify that this whole bullying thing won't repeat itself in high school, so you don't need to worry."

A simple grimace was enough to get the 16-year-old to continue, although it took him a short while to find the right words. "Almost all people our age have given up on their hero dreams by now. After all, like it or not, society isn't full of heroes. There are a lot of other jobs that are of utmost importance, and the people in our high school have realized that. Like it or not, quirks just… aren't that important in everyday life if you're a normal worker, and you won't get any hate for not having a flashy power if the whole class is filled with people who have clothespins for heads or the ability to identify objects by licking them."

Izuku thought about it for a while. Kazama was right, he had to admit it. At the end of the day, being a superhero was nothing but a job, and there were a thousand different ones. And he would actually have to choose one in a few years, something that would also force him to push his vigilance and TPS into the background.

"The latter example sounded… suspiciously specific?" The amused glint in Kazama's eyes that appeared when Izuku spoke certainly didn't go unnoticed.

"Intrigued? Well, do I have good news for you then. It's my friend's quirk. I'll introduce her to you right after classes. Trust me, you'll love it."

Unknown women and men left and right. People Izuku had seen before yet didn't know the names of, people he considered family in spite of that. Various half-strangers huddled closely in a circle of chairs in the middle of a huge hall like some kind of demented adult version of kindergarten assembly. Tons of conversations spread across the group in hushed whispers, voices melting together in his head into a comforting buzzing.

It was kind of nice to see that he wasn't the only one with excitement fizzing under his skin, fingers twitching nervously, longing to do something; punch bad guys until his knuckles ache and then make his escape on the rooftops of the city, with the cold night air hitting his face, freezing his throat and nose and making his eyes water. A sensation Izuku had come to love, one that he was more than used to at this point. It felt natural, like he was born to do this. Like they were all born to do this.

They would take it to the next level today.

Right next to him, he could hear Kazama singing the refrain of_ Killer by The Hoosiers_ to himself – a poor choice of music, considering he'd just injured a man the day before. Or maybe that was exactly why he had chosen this song. Izuku frankly didn't want to know.

What he did want to know is why Go was taking so long getting their new weapons and gadgets from his car. The thought that maybe he'd been caught and arrested crossed Izuku's mind, and it was either irrational or ridiculous enough to linger for a few seconds, only dissipating when the door to the room opened and said man stepped inside.

"Excuse me for the wait, everyone. Juichi Bishou – some of you might only know him by the name Anthropos – called me to discuss some important things regarding operation 23. Unfortunately, he can't attend today's meeting because of the preparations. That means it should be… 109 of us, I believe." Izuku watched curiously as TPS's leader closed the door by leaning against it and then headed towards them. As always, Hakaru Go carried himself with a sort of grace one wouldn't expect from someone carrying a bag full of clothes and another bag full of handguns.

He sat down at one of the few empty chairs and pushed himself just a tiny bit towards the middle of the circle, just enough to get everyone's attention when the chair's legs scraped across the wooden floor.

All syndicate members quieted down in a matter of seconds. Some raised their hands, others just waited for the founder of TPS to get on with his speech.

"As all of you should know, tonight is the night. It's time to show the world what we can do. Endeavor's statue will get stolen today, of that I'm certain. We've been working on this for weeks and I have utmost faith in you." Bending down to grab the plastic bag of clothes, Go shared a reassuring smile with his syndicate members as he decided to start rambling. "To be honest, I'm surprised this many of you showed up – it was the first day of school after all, and not all of you will even participate in the operation. I do appreciate your support, though, and I'm sure the others do as well. Oh yeah, Furuta, can you help me with this?"

Furuta, a young man with shaved hair and stylish, round and golden glasses, caught the bundle of clothes thrown at him mid-air. "I'm assuming these are the disguises?"

"Yeah. Azuma, Doi, Chiaki and I get the suits. The others are labeled, you should be able to tell who they belong to." Now that Go had officially opened the meeting, everyone in the circle seemed to be a bit more laid-back, as if they suddenly _weren't _about to rob the number two hero. Friendly yet quiet chatter returned, some people getting up and going over to Furuta to get their costumes first like so kind of excited first-graders who couldn't wait their turn.

Izuku only noticed he was rocking back and forth on the chair when he almost rammed his head into Furuta passing by. He promptly stopped and turned to Go before his worry got the best of him. "Are we taking the guns with us tonight?" The question had just slipped out. Not like he cared for the guns all too much, he hadn't even been excited to finally get them today – it was more of an attempt at a casual conversation to pass the time, or to distract himself from the fact that he was about to commit a crime.

Go practically perked up when he heard his voice. Losing a tiny bit of his stoic elegance, he made his way to Izuku with the bag full of handguns still in his arms. "Yes. But only for safety reasons. Barely any of you know how to use them, thus I forbid everyone to put them to work unless it's a seriously dangerous situation where you need to defend yourself." After saying that loud and clear, for everyone to hear, he lowered his voice and bent down to Izuku. "So, how was school? Any trouble?"

"No. It was…nice." Completely unaware of the sudden compassion Go was showing, Izuku eyed the gun being placed into his open palms with fascination, wonder, and slight fear. The sensation of it felt weird, _different_ from what he had expected, although no explanation for it came to mind. It wasn't much heavier nor lighter than he had expected, and he had not thought much about the feeling of a gun on his skin before either. "There are only three of my former classmates I've seen so far, but they didn't bother me. Kazama was right, quirklessness isn't that big of a deal at our school after all."

"It's a wonder it isn't. You probably have Kazama to thank for that. He must've normalized it." Go shot a proud smile towards the silver-haired boy, despite the latter being too preoccupied ogling the dozen firearms in the bag to notice it. "Anyway. Midoriya, use your weapon responsibly. This grants you great power and puts you in a new league. In the same league as people with powerful quirks, I'd say. And those have to pay attention that their talents don't get out of hand. Now I ask you to do the same."

"Understood. I… I will."

"Thank you." Go nodded, holding the eye contact for one second more before he suddenly turned to Kazama and handed him an exact copy of Izuku's gun.

Having a such weapon was a strange feeling. Bad conscience kept itching at the back of Izuku's head, telling him to give it back to Go, because there were just so many things that could go wrong. He could cause the gun to misfire, hit an innocent person, he could be caught with it and get in trouble, his mother could find it… After all, he had no secure place to hide it and he hadn't received training yet. Putting it into perspective, this whole handgun thing seemed like such a bad idea Izuku started to question why he had voted for it in the first place.

But nonetheless, he couldn't deny that the pound of power in his hand felt good. Felt fantastic. He was even less of a useless reject. His ability to change things, change _society,_ had grown and it felt incredible. Maybe he would even deserve his high position in the syndicate now. One that he had received admittedly unfairly, just because The Phantom Syndicate's leader believed in him and thought he had potential.

A slap on the back of his neck pulled him from his thoughts.

"What's on your mind? You aren't scared, are you?" Furuta, sporting an unreadable expression, tossed a neatly folded black trench coat to him, followed by a hoodie of the same color, long, dark gray scarf, and a blindingly snow-white piece of cloth with two holes for his eyes – his mask. "It is totally fine if you are, by the way – sorry, I didn't mean to come off patronizing."

A weak laugh erupted from Izuku's suddenly hoarse throat. "It's okay, don't worry. I'm not scared. Rather excited, actually. I was just thinking about…my gun. It's kind of intimidating, its power."

"I agree. One's used to seeing men fight with nothing but raw strength nowadays, just like savage animals. Sad to see great human inventions melt into semi-oblivion because of quirks."

"Tone down the endless wisdom, edgelord." Soft brown locks shielded Izuku's vision as a sharp voice appeared behind him, its owner leaning over his head to look at Furuta. "I swear this syndicate could be a poetry club with all the deep stuff you constantly say."

"Ah! Shimizu! Hey there!" Izuku smiled as he watched the young girl take a seat on the ground. She already seemed to have gotten dressed, wearing a fancy but athletic looking, almost completely black outfit. That, or she just felt like dressing unusually emo today.

"Hi… I've come to tell Furuta to hurry up. The sooner we get ready, the sooner we'll be there, and the sooner we'll finish the job. You should probably get changed, too." Shimizu rambled on absentmindedly, twisting a lock of her hair while she spoke. "And maybe call your mom to tell her you'll be late. You don't want any unwanted calls during the operation, right?" At that, a devilish grin appeared in the corner of her mouth, twisting her features into that trademark mischievous look of hers.

But she was right. Panic flushed over Izuku as he scrambled for his phone and stood up to go somewhere quieter.

As he rushed out of the hall, he could hear Shimizu's concerned but also amused voice call out to him: "The carpool to the event will leave in ten minutes, please hurry up, Midoriya! And don't forget the voice changer! Good luck!"

Shouto hated banquets. He always had. He hated the forced formality of everyone. He hated the pressure filling the air, bombarding the guests with a strong aura of bashfulness which left an awkward aftertaste after every exchanged word. Everyone pretending they were interested before spitting their own uninteresting anecdotes, then waiting for their conversation partners to reassure them with fake words of sympathy.

This was even worse.

Here, the attendants _were_ actually interested, and the only person they were interested in was his father. Well, his father and_ him._

Most of the visitors were rich, influential people, people who were probably going to make a speech about the importance of strong heroes like Endeavor for one hour each before they would finally get on with the actual unveiling of the statue. There were a few fans sprinkled in here and there, but most of the civilians only attended the official, public unveiling ceremony that would take place in two and a half hours.

Walking over to one of the windows in hopes of avoiding his father's acquaintances that way, Shouto noticed a small queue of cars driving by outside. That alone wasn't anything special, of course, but the fact that they were unmistakably one group, on a not-so-busy street, did raise his curiosity.

The cars disappeared into the distant darkness soon enough though, and Shouto was left staring at his own weary reflection in the window.

Turning back around to face the crowd, the huge white cloth covering the massive statue in the middle of the room entered his field of vision. Standing at about ten feet tall, it was quite a waste on all that precious metal and gemstones covering it. It was an undeniable fact that all the money that went into this project wasn't well spent.

Shouto's eyes left the statue, now scanning the crowd instead. There seemed to be more people all of a sudden, but it was an inexplicable gut feeling that he didn't know what to do with.

One person that definitely hadn't been there before was a woman wearing an event organizer's uniform, strawberry blonde hair pulled up into a simple but elegant up-do. She was talking to Endeavor and the men standing next to him insistently, adamantly trying to convince them of something while trying her best to stay professional. However, she was just frantic enough to convince Shouto that there was something up. But what?

It was now his ears detected a beeping sound, kind of like an alarm, that had been made inaudible by the loudness of all the conversations until then.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I get your attention, please?" Another personnel, an older man with gray beard stubble covering his chin stepped up, raising his voice to get everyone to shut up and listen to what he had to say. "Carbon monoxide has been detected within the building. You'll have to exit into the front yard until staff has resolved the issue. Ms. Ito and I will escort you there to make sure there's no chaos. Please try to remain calm and follow the instruction of the staff."

Telling people to remain calm was always the most useless thing to do. All the visitors started pushing towards the door immediately, looking for their friends or family in the crowd with panic written across their faces.

Shouto weighed his chances. As of now, coming out from behind the curtain and getting trampled by the sea of people would've been a stupid thing to do, but he wasn't particularly keen on staying and suffering carbon monoxide poisoning either.

"Endeavor, I'll have to ask you to extinguish your flames right now. Carbon monoxide is flammable and we don't want to make matters any worse. There's nothing you can assist with at the moment. I hope you understand." The strawberry blonde, Ms. Ito perhaps, wasn't asking. Her voice was stern and commanding, not giving in to Enji Todoroki's grim frown.

Obviously not knowing anything about chemistry and toxic gases, the flame hero was unable to object or argue. The discomfort of having to follow orders and getting rescued like some normal civilian was clear as day on his face, and it was something that brought Shouto great joy.

After two and a half minutes, the guests managed to form pairs of two at last, Shouto stuck at his father's side as Ms. Ito led them down the flight of stairs leading to the main entrance. The building's interior didn't show any signs of toxic gas spreading. Then again, Shouto didn't nearly know enough about gases to be able to tell what that meant. Carbon monoxide could've been invisible and odorless for all he knew.

The cuffs of his dress pants got wet the moment he stepped into the grass outside. They were lead a few yards further away, coming to a stop under a cherry tree in the corner of the yard.

His shock slowly started to wear off, and Shouto was finally comprehending what exactly was happening. Sure, he had gotten the memo of _'bad gas spreading, we have to get away' _but it just now dawned on him that their lives have just been saved in a matter of a few minutes. If the staff hadn't gotten them out of there, everyone would've passed out one by one with no one to get help and they would've all died.

Worried, scared voices all around him embraced him with further concerns, questions where the gas had come from or what would happen now. Almost no one cared about Endeavor's statue now – why would they, after all, the carbon monoxide didn't affect it in the slightest.

Maybe that is why he was the only one who noticed the dark figure climbing into the banquet hall through the window.

_**To be honest, I personally hate most of this chapter. It took me ages to finally get everything to fall into the right place and to make sense. Writing with a slight writer's block was a pain. I hope it's still enjoyable, though.**_

_**I'd be very thankful for comments and feedback, since I want to improve by learning what I did right and what I could've done better. So, if you have any suggestions, please leave a comment, I guess?**_

_**By the way, thank you so much for reading and see you next chapter!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Hey there! I'm sorry this chapter took so long... It's finally here, though, and I hope you enjoy! :D **_

"There. Someone just climbed in through the window."

All the guests surrounding him followed Shouto's gaze and his finger pointing in the direction of the banquet hall's window. Some of them nodded in agreement, commenting how they'd seen the figure too. Others hadn't been as fast and kept squinting into the distance expectantly, just in case another silhouette would appear out of the darkness.

The strawberry-blonde Ms. Ito, the staff member who'd just led them outside, nibbled on her lower lip nervously as her eyes searched the windows of the building, looking for any sign of movement. "Are you sure? If you're right, we need to go back in to rescue them immediately, putting our own safety at risk. That's why I need you to be absolutely certain that you weren't imagining things. Why would anyone climb into an abandoned building full of carbon monoxide? And why through the window?"

"Because of the statue." Shouto guessed after thinking about it for a second. "It's worth a lot, isn't it, Sir?"

The sponsor of the statue, a gray-haired man with a long, curly mustache, who had just now started to pay attention to their conversation, nodded hesitantly after comprehending the question. He still didn't seem to have connected the dots as to why the monument's worth was anything important, though.

"You're suggesting they're thieves?" Ms. Ito's face paled and her hand flew to her face, a face that was contorted in either confusion or fear. Shouto couldn't quite tell. "Even if we suppose that there are in fact criminals in the building, there is not much we can do. Carbon monoxide is still keeping us from entering. The thieves aren't immune to it either, they'll pass out before they can steal anything. We have no choice but to wait for the firemen to arrive, right?"

Unsure guests, including his unnaturally helpless-looking father, looked at the woman expectantly, choosing to ignore the obvious fact that she was out of her comfort zone just as much as they were. She too wasn't used to situations like this, weird and unfortunate coincidences piled into one big mess that one didn't know what to do with.

Then again, the current incident's circumstances seemed to have an awfully convenient timing in the thieves' favor. Simply the detail that they chose to attack exactly when the guests had left the building pointed to something more intricate going on behind the scenes.

"It's a ruse."

"What is that supposed to mean, Shouto?" His father's looming voice caused his confidence in that conclusion to crack just a tiny bit, but it wasn't nearly close to enough to make him second-guess it.

"The thieves faked a carbon monoxide leak to get us out of the building. In reality, there are no toxic gases inside, it's completely safe to go in." Shouto declared, his legs already taking him forward as he spoke. "Sounding the alarm was just an attempt at winning privacy and time, but their entrance clearly wasn't careful enough. Anyone bored enough to start stargazing would've noticed it."

Ms. Ito reached out a shaky hand towards him."Excuse me, Todoroki, but where are you going? You aren't actually planning to rush in, are-"

Shouto's fast pace had quickly turned into a hurried jog as he retraced his steps to the huge doors, up the stairs, and into the huge ballroom right at the end of the floor's hall, all while ignoring the people calling after him in the process.

It would be hard to describe the confusion that hit him when he swung open the pair of delicately embellished wooden doors only to find a deserted, empty, and dark banquet hall. The tables were full of food and the plates weren't empty either, but turned over chairs and askew decorations showed that the people had left in a hurry. In contrast, the giant white sheet over his father's statue gently reflected the peaceful moonlight like a rock covered by an otherworldly figure's magic cloak. It was the only thing dimly illuminating the interior, veiling the room into an air of mystery. Everything was absurdly quiet, way too calm when Shouto had expected to be greeted with criminals barking orders and hurrying around.

If the red-and-white-haired teen hadn't been able to pinpoint what felt so off until then, now he most definitely could. For a few short seconds, he had jumped to the conclusion that he had made a mistake and that there really was a carbon monoxide poisoning slowly robbing his blood of oxygen and killing him in the process, but that couldn't be it.

For carbon monoxide was odorless. The air in here had a clear metallic smell that hadn't been there ten minutes prior. At least Shouto was pretty sure it was metallic. Whether it was metallic or sweet hardly mattered, however, when it all ended in the same conclusion: there was some kind of gas in here, although not CO.

His instincts were just a millisecond late. Had he been a fraction of a second faster, he surely would've been able to freeze the ground or raise a wall of ice around himself before he was thrown to the ground with some skilled martial arts move. Still, thinking about what he could've done better did nothing when a heavy-set muscle-head of a man jumped on his torso and grabbed his arms when he was still recovering from having the air knocked out of him. Said man held him down and kept his thick fingers tightly wrapped around Shouto's wrist, giving a smaller figure the chance to force a plastic mask onto his nose and mouth.

Shouto fruitlessly tried to toss and turn, shake the mask off his face or at least use his quirk, but it had been an unfair fight from the start. One against more than three. He had no chance. Turning the floor into an ice rink would've had no effect with all of them already laying on the ground, and the attackers were way too close for any grand scale strikes from someone with a ranged fighting style.

The metallic smell was even stronger now, although he didn't find it quite that obnoxious anymore. Feeling his muscles relax and his heartbeat slow, he gradually accepted the situation and calmed down enough to look around.

Four people in various masks were huddled over him, all busy with rendering him powerless. Aforementioned muscle-head about to break his pelvis, holding his hands in place, while two slightly weaker individuals in black gas masks held back his legs from knocking them out. The face directly above his belonged to the somebody pressing the mask to his face. Big, bright eyes surrounded by white fabric gave him silent apologies while a small, fake, almost undetectable and clearly guilty smile was supposed to make him believe that the person was enjoying this, even if just a tiny bit.

"Don't worry, it will be over soon, I promise. Tell your dad the Phantoms said hello, alright?" _Bright Eyes'_ voice sounded strange, Shouto remarked in his head. It resembled the tone aliens had in movies. Perhaps they were actually an alien? But why would aliens want to steal his dad's statue? Were gold and gemstones a form of interplanetary currency or did they just find them nice-looking?

Other unreasonably irrational and weird thoughts snuck into his mind as a more pleasant smell replaced the metallic odor of the plastic mask. In the far corner of the room, Shouto could hear wobbly voices, fading in and out like unstable radio speech. He believed to recognize his father's aggravated yells outside the door, muffled by the sound of shuffling right next to him. Maybe he had discovered the UFO parked over the building and had finally decided to come inside to protect his statue from the extraterrestrials.

"I think he's out," Izuku mumbled, tentatively lifting the mask from Shouto Todoroki's face. The boy looked kind of confused, even in his sleep. It made one wonder what he was thinking about. "Are you sure he isn't going to throw up and choke on his own vomit?"

"There's a pretty high chance, but let's hope that doesn't happen." Gentian pursed his lips and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Come on, hurry up. He'll be fine."

"You just said he probably won't." He protested but got up nonetheless. "What about Eagle-owl? I can hear Endeavor coming, is the plan not working?"

Shadow's know-it-all voice appeared in everyone's ears, reporting with a calmness only somebody observing from a neighboring building could have. "Endeavor just arrived on your floor. Eagle-owl is right behind him. I'd recommend you hide right now."

Without further discussion, every single conscious person in the room slipped under tables and behind curtains – Gentian had grabbed the anesthesia equipment and promptly thrown it out the window – without making a single noise. They had worked on their stealth thrice a week in preparation for this plan, and it was so satisfying to see it had paid off.

Izuku breathed heavily against the mauve fabric in front of his face. He feared even that would give him away. Either that or that damned heart of his beating in his throat, louder than any sound Present Mic could ever produce.

Everything else had gone smoothly until then, but it was clear to everyone that they couldn't let their guards down yet. Especially he.

To his relief, the Flame Hero didn't immediately set the table cloth on fire once he finally entered the banquet hall. No, he instead rushed to his comatose son on the floor, calling out his name in angry panic and most likely cradling him in his arms (Izuku had no way of telling, but that was what he would've liked to imagine Endeavor doing).

"Sir, we have to leave immediately. We'll end up like him soon if we don't go, and he'll get even worse. I for one am already feeling light-headed." Those were Eagle-owl's words, muffled by her elbow over her mouth in an attempt to keep herself from breathing in the oh-so-present carbon monoxide.

Every single syndicate member hidden in the room collectively sucked in a sharp metaphorical breath as they awaited the pro-hero's response.

This was the moment of truth. The moment where Endeavor had to decide if he believed his son or the professional.

Izuku had built his entire plan, _the entire operation_, on that small detail. He had got to know Shouto Todoroki as a rather cynical person who would question anything that didn't make sense. And he had also encountered him as someone with a bad relationship with his father. _As someone who would rather hide that fact, but who had made it clear as day at the same time._

Enji Todoroki seemed like the person who couldn't tell the difference between the nonexistent smell of CO and the smell of laughing gas mixed with Halothane. Not that that was abnormal, in fact, it would've been a surprise if any normal person were able to do that. What made it work was the fact that Enji Todoroki was ignorant and narcissistic enough to not question it when he wasn't feeling light-headed, at all, in a building supposedly filled with toxic gas.

Having knocked out Todoroki also served as great evidence, Izuku supposed, but he still preferred being just a tiny bit proud of all the careful planning he had done for this mission and giving himself a little credit. He was also the one who'd spent two entire days googling anesthesia methods, after all.

Endeavor grumbled something and stood up, turning and heading for the door, his heavy feet making the floorboards creak as he passed.

Days of research and nights of sleep lost were all worth it in the end.

Izuku waited until Shadow told them they were in the clear until he crawled out from under the table and hurried over to the huge white cloth in the middle of the room. With the help of two others, he freed the statue, or at least its remains. Before the younger Todoroki had set foot into the ballroom, they had had enough time to cut off some parts of it already. Fortunately, since their intention was to sell the materials of the statue anyway, they had no reason they'd have to keep it in one piece. This made the expensive piece of trash way easier to transport from one of the upper floors.

"Everyone grab a piece and throw it out that window. Merlin's team is waiting in the bushes." Gentian pointed to the east side of the room, then started helping those who had already continued taking the massive, golden artwork apart.

After about fifteen minutes, they had finished dropping parts of the statue to the others, who had promptly left after catching and hiding them in their disguises or props. By that time, the sound of police and firetruck sirens had signaled their arrival and at the same time told The Phantom Syndicate's members it was their time to leave. It would be way harder to evade thirty professionals than to evade one.

In a sudden, unexplained boost of confidence, Izuku spoke up and took control. "Hurry up and leave. I can distract them for a short while by doing what we had originally planned and introducing us. The teams of Shadow and Achilles will plant a few smoke bombs beside nearby buildings while I do to draw the first-responders' attention. Once the bombs go off, I'll have a chance to disappear too." With that, he pushed one of his fellow members towards the window. They would be able to get away comfortably if the firemen and police focused on him and the colorful smoke.

"But Deku-" Gentian placed a big, firm hand on his shoulder, unable to finish his sentence.

"Have faith in me. I'll do great."

A short moment of hesitation followed, but the muscular young man let go of Izuku's shoulder at last. He didn't say anything, just turned around and urged the last few members to climb out the window so he could follow them.

"Good luck, Deku."

While the others filed out one by one, Izuku made his way to the opposite side of the room. As soon as everyone else had left, he slid into the hallway to peek out the window on the west side.

It would've been an understatement to call whatever was outside chaos. The two police cars, three ambulances, and two cars from the fire department (one of them being a fire truck) had drawn in anyone who had not yet noticed or cared that there was an emergency going on. A crowd of people had gathered in the huge front yard, watching curiously as some paramedics shuffled around and firemen discussed things with the police.

Rushing into this had not been a good idea, Izuku decided. That's the only conclusion he could come to. To his defense, back when he had told Gentian and the others to go, his mouth had spoken the words before his brain could second-guess it. It was the sludge-villain incident all over again. Go would've referred to it as a healthy dose heroic heart with a little stupidity and recklessness on the side.

Forgetting the fact he did not yet know what he was going to say, the green-haired boy carefully and slowly opened the window and gazed over to the great sea of tall apartments half a block away. Achilles must've been in one of those houses. Shadow was in the building that was a direct neighbor to the building the unveiling ceremony was – or rather had been – taking place in.

"Shadow, Achilles, can you hear me?"

"Of course. I was wondering when you'd request our assistance. You do know we heard everything you said and know the plan, right?"

No. He had not known that. "How long will it take for you to finish planting the smoke bombs?"

"Five minutes maximum. We'll hurry." Shadow assured him, voice cutting off abruptly as she was already on her way.

Now was the time for the improvisation bit. Well, technically, it wasn't _entirely_ improvised. Not that the entire side-plan wasn't winged, but the fact that they had decided to carry smoke bombs with them showed that they had always been planning to use an alternative solution when things didn't go as they'd thought.

With a swift motion, Izuku switched the settings on his voice changer and leaned out the window.

"Hey!"

The deep yet shaky voice pierced the static sound of chaos and threw a veil over the cacophony of the sirens, pushing their shrieks into the background as everyone turned their attention to the owner of said voice. To a masked figure dressed in a black trench coat and a hood, looking like a _budget Eraserhead with more layers on_ due to the gray scarf wrapped several times around his neck and lower face.

Izuku was aware of how ridiculous he must've looked. Or perhaps only he thought he looked ridiculous, deep in his subconscious. But he also realized that this was his chance to tell the world how much he didn't care, how he had had enough of society telling him he couldn't do it. That he was presenting himself once again to everyone who had doubted him, to All Might and the police officers who had told him off just a few months ago for wanting to save his friend. He was presenting himself as the hero he had turned into – a hero with perhaps questionable morals, but who was beloved by the masses and wouldn't let other people tell him that he was powerless. One who had achieved his dream, in the end – his dream to help the helpless and to save people in need of saving.

"Just wanted to thank Endeavor for the statue – The Phantom Syndicate deeply appreciates your donation and will be forever thankful for everything that happened tonight!" He put every single drop of anger he had in him into those words, into the malicious smile that formed on his face as he shouted into the darkness and into the white shock on the faces of his audience. He spoke to no one in particular and everyone at the same time, having no idea where exactly Endeavor was or if there were any other pro-heroes on the scene. Not that it really mattered. Not even All Might could've killed the euphoria he got from finally being able to do this. "We will be looking forward to the next time!"

By then, most of the officers had recovered from their surprise and had started running towards and into the building, a raging Endeavor joining them half a second later. Colorful smoke rose gradually from behind the houses at the same time, making the policemen stop dead in their tracks and look around confused, hesitating just long enough to give Izuku time to bolt for the east side window.

"Todoroki was there, right Todoroki?" Kaminari looked at him at that, as if expecting him to recount everything that had happened two days ago. The paramedics in the ambulance had told him about it, but it would have been frankly ridiculous to think he would remember things when his mind had been in such a hazy state. He hadn't been there for the exciting part anyway. "Did you see them up close? What were they like?"

There were literally no questions he hadn't heard yet and nothing he hadn't told the police before. At this point, Shouto felt like a broken record, repeating the same things over and over. "I'm not sure. I didn't see them up close, it was dark, and my memory is fuzzy."

"But you admit they were super cool, right?"

Yaoyorozu sighed. "Still, for a beloved hero group to change their ways so suddenly…"

"I heard they still take requests, though! They haven't closed their hero business yet, they've just… expanded it." Sero leaned onto Shouto's desk. He wasn't even trying to hide his grin.

"People still trust the Phantoms?" Kaminari asked almost dumbfounded.

"Of course! They've gotten even more popular, actually. If there was anyone who hadn't known about them before, they sure do now."

Kirishima shook his head as if to show disappointment rather than disagreeing. "I'm pretty sure they're all just trying to investigate them by hiring TPS. Which is pretty stupid by the way, considering how talented they all are. As if they'd let themselves be caught by some simple civilians!"

"Whose side are you on, Kirishima? Those are criminals you're talking about! Criminals who tried to hurt one of your classmates!" Iida appeared behind them, disrupting their conversation by flailing his arms in the usual manner Iida would flail his arms.

"That's the whole point. They could've seriously injured Todoroki, and they didn't, even if it would've been a lot safer for them. This shows there's still good in them!" The red-haired teen argued, suddenly cut off by their homeroom teacher stepping into the room, followed by two others, a black-haired man in a trench coat and none other than All Might.

Within seconds, the space around Shouto's desk cleared as everyone hurried back to their seats. The stranger in front of the class flashed an awkward smile while he waited for the class to quiet down, a smile Shouto had seen all too often when his statement had been collected by the exact same man.

Once the general murmur was replaced by expectant and eager silence, both of their teachers took a step back and let the mostly unknown man clear his throat and begin. "Good morning, everyone. My name is Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi, and I am here to ask for your assistance in a police case. As future pro-heroes, you will often be forced to co-operate with the police force and thus I ask that you behave maturely and handle this like actual professionals. By that, I mean that you don't spread confidential information and keep everything we do a secret to the public. Can you, uhm, do that?"

The class nodded collectively, then started sharing curious looks between each other, gazes already silently discussing wild theories about which case they were going to help with. Any actual conversations were immediately shut down by Aizawa's stern look commanding silence and attention, however.

"Great! Now that that's settled, I officially welcome you to the task force working on The Phantom Syndicate case! You'll be excused from any school classes you'll miss, but you'll also be required to sometimes sacrifice a few hours of your afternoon to participate in the investigation. I hope that's alright. Of course, no one is actually forced to actively partake in this if they don't want to, but it does count as experience and would look good on a resume. Does anyone have any questions? If not, we'll go straight to arranging our meeting times." Tsukauchi said, rubbing the back of his neck like he was fully aware that his explanation had been somewhat of a mess.

Dozens of hands flew up straight away, the students of UA's class 1-A already cheerfully talking about the news and whether or not they want to help out with the case.

As for Shouto, it was no question he would. He didn't have much of a choice. For one, there was his father's pride he would probably have to defend, not to mention the practice he'd get out of this that his father would without doubt value. Besides, even if his father wasn't to pressure him into this, there was still the striking fact that he was simply interested in the work of the mysterious phantom group.

Glasses of golden champagne – or in some cases apple juice – were raised into the air as every pair of eyes in the room studied Izuku.

"To Deku, without whom we surely wouldn't have succeeded! To the face of The Phantom Syndicate!" Go roared, his long fingers wrapping around the boy's arm as he too raised his glass.

"To Deku! To the revolution!" The crowd echoed back in unity as if they had practiced it a million times before. As soon as those words were spoken, everyone raised their glasses to their mouth and the formal atmosphere dissolved into a friendly and convivial one. A few syndicate members came up to Izuku to congratulate him, but that was it; he was finally out of the spotlight.

The man let go of his arm and spun him around just enough to be facing him. "You did great, Midoriya. I'm proud of you."

An inexplicably warm feeling spread in his stomach at those words. It felt amazing to be praised, but it meant much, much more when the words were coming from the leader of the whole organization. Izuku still hadn't gotten quite used to being so close to the man, even though it wasn't anything new. He supposed Go was a sort of replacement of All Might in his mind, which was the reason why he was still something special, something unreachable and god-like to him.

Something like that was definitely not healthy. And yet, Izuku didn't quite care.

_**Btw, when Izuku mentioned how he spent two days researching anesthetics... That was me. I spent two days researching anesthetics. Fun fact, Izuku went out of his way to use a more complicated method that was also harder to transport just because it was safer than the other options and Shouto's chance of survival was higher... So yeah there's that :p (also special thanks to my dad who answered all my questions about knocking out fictional anime characters and gave me advice as well)**_

_**I'm not sure if the characterization in this chapter is entirely on point and Grammarly says the chapter isn't very engaging either but oh well :/ I hope you enjoyed at least?**_

_**Thanks for reading, and see you next chapter! Also, if you have any constructive criticism, please leave a comment, it always makes my day! :D**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**I'm sorry this update is so late, I've been experiencing major writer's block with this fic. It's over now, though, so yay! **_

The Phantom Syndicate always left an eerie aura of distant chaos behind, Shouto found. It still reminded him of the unveiling ceremony incident, where he just had to watch and couldn't interfere – quite torturing for someone literally being taught to rush in and save people.

Sounds of gunshots from one of the upper floors overlaid the yelling as a handful policemen abandoned Uraraka, Kirishima, and him to sprint into the building.

The red-haired boy held his hand above his eyes as he looked up, trying to spot something or someone of importance. "Geez... What are they even doing up there? Meeting with the yakuza or something?"

"Maybe someone requested them as personal bodyguards."

Probably not. They usually avoided such jobs – or nobody hired them – because the employer could turn out to have questionable morals they didn't quite agree with. So the police assumed, at least.

A sudden rain of glass shards interrupted the short discussion as the UA students shuffled away from the apartment building. It might have been unexpected, but the broken window's fall was also short-lived. Barely a second later, everyone could resume watching the heroes evacuate the residents while the police tried to deescalate the situation.

And Phantom had needed exactly that, it seemed. Standing in the hole of the former window, he waved at the crowd forming below, playing with the handgun hung around his finger to assure the audience of his good mood.

Shouto heard quite a few excited shrieks from the civilians behind him. He didn't even want to know how many people had only come to see the herald of TPS.

"Hey there!" Phantom called out in response, his voice robotic and strange.

Not wasting any time, one of the heroes extended her unnaturally long arm and gave the man a shove. It pushed him off the windowsill and onto a conveniently placed balcony one floor below.

Smoke engulfed the heroine not even a second later, forcing the others to rush in and help while Phantom had time to collect himself from the fall. The concrete balcony must've done a number on his back.

His newfound hunch changed nothing about the mocking tone of his voice. "Is that all?"

Detective Tsukauchi didn't seem to pay his shouts much thought anymore, though. He motioned for other officers to follow as he hurried to the side of the building, unfazed by any further taunts the criminal let out.

Shouto couldn't quite make much of the move until he too noticed the two figures running towards a side alley.

Phantom, still leaning over the balcony railing, clearly disliked his sudden unimportance. The boy could see him fight his way through two cops to get to a different window in the corner of his vision.

"What, you don't want to catch me anymore?"

His words were emphasized by two warning shots right at Tsukauchi's feet. The detective jumped back out of instinct, causing Shouto and the others to catch up to and pass him.

The closer they got, the more obvious the height difference between the two figures became.

One of them was clearly a child, getting pulled along by the other.

Getting pulled along by _Phantom_, Shouto realized. The one in the window must've been a clone.

A silvery-blue streak of wind shot past him. Iida – just slow enough to make clear he wasn't using his quirk. As if that mattered at this point.

Throwing himself ahead with a jump, he managed to catch the boy's foot – said boy, however, made no further attempts to assist his own rescue and instead tried to kick himself free from Iida's grasp.

"Wait, stop, we're here to save you!" Kirishima shouted, rushing in to assist with the tug-of-war that had become of his classmate's rescue attempt.

His intentions were futile, however. With one swift kick from Phantom causing Iida to pull his hand back in pain, the masked figure managed to free the child.

Even the wall of ice Shouto sent their way or Tsukauchi's bullets helped little as the two ran down the road, turning into a dark side street and disappearing into thin air.

"Sir, we spotted the suspect and the victim two blocks from here," one of the policemen announced as the team searched the alley full of two-room houses.

So the chase wasn't over yet after all.

"I wouldn't have shot at the policeman," Izuku pointed out as he removed another hair clip sticking his hood to his scalp and hiding his green locks.

"But _you_aren't Phantom. We all are. You're Deku."

"The Shadows did a great job at acting like Phantom, and _they_ didn't break the syndicate rules." He flashed a lopsided, apologetic smile.

Kazama side-eyed him from his place on the couch. He grinned.

"Well, they didn't come face to face with heroes, either."

"Only _two_ heroes. We've fought against five before."

"That wasn't a twenty-man operation."

Hekima Suzuki entering the living room with a mug of hot chocolate and the day's hero at her side interrupted their banter.

The two boys fell silent as they watched nine-year-old Daichi Tanaka take a seat by the coffee table and accept the aforementioned mug with gratitude, taking a slow sip out of it while curiously eyeing Izuku.

"You're the real Phantom, right?"

Izuku swore that stinging feeling in his chest was his heart melting. That boy regarded him as a hero, he felt the same amazement Izuku had felt when meeting actual pro-heroes as a kid. All the dubious mess he'd gotten himself into seemed completely worth it for once.

"Yes. Feel free to call me Izuku Midoriya, though."

Daichi smiled and nodded with abnormal enthusiasm. "I'm a big fan. Are you really all like me here?"

"Yup, kiddo. One hundred percent quirkless." Sitting up to ruffle the boy's hair, Kazama glanced at Miss Hekima. "Has Go decided over his fate?"

"Not yet," she answered, giving the small boy a bittersweet look. "They're discussing it right as we speak. We can't just hand him over to social workers, the police wouldn't leave the poor angel alone. Who's to prove we weren't the ones causing all those injuries? His parents won't admit to abusing him anytime soon, I imagine."

"I don't want to go, anyway." Daichi perked up.

"There's that, too. Not that I mind it, I already have about one hundred and twelve grandchildren, what's one more… But you know – the circumstances aren't exactly the most…optimal."

Izuku smiled. Perhaps it really wasn't the most optimal place to raise a child, yeah. But arguably not the worst one either, especially for someone quirkless. He himself would've given anything as a kid to know he wasn't alone, to know quirkless people made exceptional heroes.

The fact they had a few pet-sitting gigs, too – which doubled as the perfect petting zoo for their guest at the moment – served as another great argument in their favor. Most kids loved animals, after all.

"Daichi, do you want to meet our bunny-tenants while the others talk?"

Conscience-stricken silence filled the air as they waited for Tsukauchi to arrive. Uraraka and Atsui exchanged glances full of worry and grief, but no one else dared to look at the others. They all knew they had no reason to be proud of themselves. A little kid had been kidnapped and they'd let it happen.

At one point, Bakugou must've gotten sick of it. "Stop moping around, goddammit, we'll save him. That's why we're here." He slammed his fist onto the table to emphasize his words. It was quite inspirational, in a way.

"He's right. In fact, a few hand-written letter-drafts we found in Daichi Tanaka's room imply that he _requested_ to be kidnapped, or rather, rescued. Of course, that's barely any evidence, but a little talk I had with his parents an hour ago very much supports the theory," Detective Tsukauchi spoke as he stepped into the room and placed a handful crumpled up papers on the table, gesturing for the teens to take a look at them.

Shouto reached out and grabbed the first one his hand landed on. Unfolding the sheet lead to three lines of not-quite-readable handwriting – first greeting The Phantom Syndicate, then trying to explain how 'his mom and dad disliked how he couldn't change his shape'. Red pen crossed out everything written with a thin line. Daichi hadn't considered the wording appropriate, perhaps.

Kirishima's face paled as his eyes scanned his paper. "How can someone do this to their own child?"

It wouldn't have been the first time in history. Hell, Shouto was the best person to know that. Whether it happened to be a quirk marriage or 'simply' parents unhappy with their kid's disadvantage, this had always been part of the superhuman society they lived in, and it wouldn't stop anytime soon.

"So TPS did nothing wrong this time?" Uraraka asked.

"Well, they haven't magically turned into villains since the unveiling ceremony incident from two weeks ago, no. We still need to get Daichi Tanaka back, though." Tsukauchi flashed a sheepish smile. "And besides that, there's-"

"This is their second recorded request relating to quirkless citizens," Iida noted, recounting the case of a woman harassing people without quirks and TPS's extravagant way of teaching her a lesson.

"Exactly." Tsukauchi nodded with the pride of a father watching his son's first kindergarten performance. He held a surprising amount of energy for someone hardly getting enough sleep between helping All Might with paperwork and working on several investigations.

Bakugou growled. "That's just two cases out of two hundred. It means nothing."

Shouto had to disagree with that one. There were a billion better ways to remove a child from an abusive home without attracting so much attention, just like they could've handled the hate speech against quirkless population with the same down-to-earthness they took care of all their cases with. They had wanted to get noticed. Iida and the detective were onto something.

"They used their quirks more than usual and went out of their way to cause a scene. That does mean something."

"Did I ask you, Half-and-half?"

Tsukauchi ignored Bakugou. "So we can all agree there's a pattern there. Now we have to find a motive."

It had all felt kind of surreal. The principal's words, the police officer's awkward greeting, the smiles of the seven UA students on the stage as the man rambled on – smiles like those of Disney-world character actors on their first day of work. Even Kacchan's frown had seemed forced.

And they had all talked about TPS. How students – and everyone else, for that matter – weren't supposed to request their help because unlicensed 'heroes-for-hire' couldn't be trusted and were dangerous, despite their appearance giving off a cool vibe or whatever. How they had to assist the police with their work by staying out of this mess and being responsible.

Izuku had to forget that eerie aura of distant chaos hidden and locked up in the heads of the people on the stage. He _needed_ to wash away that memory of locking eyes with Todoroki.

At first, his eyes had widened in surprise, then immediately narrowed with faint skepticism. He didn't gaze at Izuku a second time during the whole speech, for that matter. He just stared holes in the air as if the drugs he'd been knocked out with weeks prior still hadn't quite worn off.

There was no way he hadn't recognized Izuku. No matter if that recognition came from the library or the unveiling ceremony, he knew, and he'd eventually figure.

Izuku was in trouble.

As soon as the principal announced they were free to leave, he zigzagged through the sea of students and rushed out of the assembly hall. Not even his friends' faint shouts for him could turn him around.

Todoroki opened the door right when he walked to the sink of the boys' restroom.

The slightly unsettled look on his face told Izuku they'd met by complete accident this time. Still, the chances of such accidents involving them two happening this often unsettled _him_ just as much.

For a few seconds, he kept his eyes strictly on his hands. He would put off the evil hour as long as he could, even if that only meant a few seconds.

"You're the guy from the library, right?"

Quiescence.

Good. That was good. Certainly the lesser of two evils.

Izuku gave the boy a sheepish smile after short hesitation. "Yeah. Again, sorry about that."

Inconvenient silence filled the room as Izuku dried his hand and Todoroki just stood there, neither of them saying anything. Had the boy followed him just to ask that or did he perhaps forget he had to pee?

Izuku leaned against the sink and looked at the other. At _candy cane boy_, son of the number two hero, staring back at him with unfocused eyes, deep in speculation. Either the guy was high off his head today or he refused to let the thought of Izuku being suspicious go.

He took the liberty to assume the latter to be the case.

"So why did you guys come if the officer was the only one doing the talking?"

Todoroki shrugged. "They thought it'd be more convincing if teens were part of the team, I guess."

"So you're just decoration?" Izuku felt the guilt crawl into his throat as he said that. It sounded plain rude when it wasn't Go speaking.

"No, not really. Conveying the message is pretty important." At last, Todoroki finally remembered why he came and deemed the conversation finished, dodging Izuku to get to the urinals. "So take care and try not to interact with The Phantom Syndicate, okay?"

A sharp pain settled at the back of Izuku's head as his fight or flight instinct kicked in for no apparent reason.

There was no way in hell Todoroki wasn't actively helping the investigation. If all they'd used him and his friends for had been a sorry attempt at being relatable, they could've used students from any school and not waste the hero-trainees' times.

Izuku's anonymity balanced on a razor blade if Shouto Todoroki had access to the case.

"Why does the police need first-graders from UA to assist with the unmasking of some petty underground vigilante gang?"

It took a few seconds for Todoroki to turn around after he'd processed the question. There was a certain lukewarm emptiness in his eyes Izuku didn't quite know what to make of but wasn't intimidated by either.

"Look. I'm thankful for what you guys have done until now, but it's going a bit too far. I won't tell anyone about you somehow being associated with the syndicate, but you can't seriously expect me to answer that question."

So he knew. Izuku wasn't quite sure what else he had expected. At least it didn't appear as bad as it could possibly be.

He smiled. A quirkless hero's greatest weapon was faux confidence, after all. "I understand. See you around, then."

"You should be more careful. We can't have your mother worry you're a delinquent," Go sighed as he held the cafe's door open for him and Daichi. "All those injuries look quite suspicious."

"_I_ think they're cool. They look like mine."

Izuku sucked in a sharp breath while he greeted Akiara with a friendly nod. Perhaps he should've viewed those words as Daichi looking at the bright side and it wouldn't have hurt him so much then. "Thanks. I think yours are too. Still, Mr. Go is right. I have to pay more attention."

After ordering two hot chocolates and a coffee from Miss Akiara, he sat down on one of the oaken chairs and studied Go's face for a second. In case he was really going to tell him about Todoroki now, he needed the man to be in a great mood.

Perhaps he should wait until he'd drunk his caffeine.

"Furuta is supposed to arrive in about ten minutes, correct?" Go checked his watch, then checked it a second time just for good measure. "He said he'd tutor you this afternoon, Daichi."

He waited until the boy nodded with confused assent before he turned to Izuku.

"Do you have any new hero analysis notes? The gal who'd attacked Achilles during the rescue had made her debut this month."

No, it was most definitely the worst time to talk about UA's investigation team.

"Well, I haven't done any extensive research, but I imagine her arm is her weak-" he began, but Go cut him off with a dismissive hand gesture.

"Midoriya, I don't need hypotheses. If you hadn't had the time to analyze new heroes, it's fine. I assumed you came here for a reason, that's all."

Izuku bit the inside of his mouth. Even though Go had loosened up about all the tasks they needed to do ever since things were going smoothly, he knew full well the man found his current work ethic rather unsatisfactory. And he completely agreed, without having to hear any scolding coated in manipulative sweetness.

The least he could do was provide information.

He looked around the cafe – anywhere was better than Go's endless, persistent gaze – and began fumbling with the sleeve of his hoodie. "Half a dozen UA students are part of the investigation team now. Just thought you should know."

"Good." Go crossed his arms over his chest with an appeased smile. That's all he had wanted to hear – the honest truth. "Endeavour's kid is one of them, if I'm not mistaken?"

Daichi gave Izuku a puzzled look, but he didn't have the energy to offer an explanation.

"Yes. And he knows about me."

After taking a sip of his freshly-brought black coffee, Go reached into the pocket of his suit and worked two pieces of mint gum onto his palm.

Izuku had seen this a thousand times before. The ignoring-tactic, where Go would work on his stress by aggressively chewing gum. It didn't mean he was angry by any means, just that it was that time of the week again, the time where he had no clue how to go on for once.

"Mr. Go?"

"Your concerns are unwarranted and frankly a bit egoistical, Midoriya," he spat out at last, lowering his voice when he saw Daichi flinch. "The kid knows about you researching Endeavour two months before the incident even took place. So what? That's hardly incriminating."

"He...sort of accused me of working with the syndicate. And I sort of admitted it." Izuku focused on the lines of cream decorating his drink. Go couldn't get angry, he couldn't make a scene – not in front of Daichi – but it hardly mattered when guilt was already eating away at him anyway. In hindsight, it all seemed so stupidly obvious. Not even a fleeting excuse of 'he didn't know how to react' was valid now, not when he'd gotten himself through a million riskier situations.

"You did _what_?"

"But he thanked me for the unveiling ceremony incident and promised he wouldn't out me to anyone."

Go closed his eyes and let out an exasperated breath. "I see."

"I'm sorry."

"I doubt that matters now. Don't get me wrong, Izuku, I'm not reproaching you for what happened. You're still a kid with the awkwardness kids tend to have, mistakes are bound to happen when one puts you in such a high-responsibility position. As my protege, _I_ should take the full blame for your actions."

The devil on Izuku's shoulder assured him this mini-monologue had all been a result of Go trying to manipulate Daichi into adoring the syndicate. Izuku's mind knew better.

Whether the first-name basis meant affection or lost respect didn't matter to him much, because, despite the huge difference between the two, they both proved all of the man's words to be honest.

"Nonetheless, we can't just forget about it like that. For your safety, you'll tend to smaller requests in the upcoming weeks, where run-ins with the police are less likely. Your handgun will also be given to someone else for safekeeping – if push comes to shove and you're apprehended, it would just cause you trouble. Possession of a firearm might be your only crime," Go spoke, tutting when he noticed the glassiness of Izuku's eyes.

He stood up and walked to the window with newfound determination. In spite of the shady surroundings, the Suzuki cafe was one of the better ones, and Izuku would've hated it if it had to close due to criminal activity among the clientele. Fortunately though, nobody seemed to be anywhere near the building.

Walking back to the table, Izuku unzipped his bag and shuffled through several hidden compartments until he pulled out the weapon. He set it down on the table and gave it a gentle push.

If not being Phantom for a while equaled being allowed to stay Deku, Izuku would be more than happy to take it. Kazama had been right, they were all Phantom – Phantom was the personification of The Phantom Syndicate as a whole.

Besides, he would get back to fighting the bigger bad guys at one point, and helping out simple citizens wasn't too bad either. He would certainly have more time to spend with his mother or Daichi this way. Maybe he could even take up an extracurricular activity for the next few weeks or however long this protection-project would last.

Mostly, Izuku could just assist behind the scenes and focus on planning and organizing. Not much would change, and what did was for the better.

Daichi set down his hot chocolate and reached toward the firearm with awe and bewilderment written in his face. He must've been well aware it balanced out the inequality of mankind in regards to inborn power.

"Thank you." Go snatched the gun and it promptly disappeared under his suit. "Now, let's focus on dealing with the UA kids and bringing the Tanakas to justice, shall we?"

_**Ah yes, the case of pre-sports festival Shouto and awkward encounters... Exactly my cup of tea.**_

_**Also I swear Go is trying his best to be a good human and father figure but it's hard with 111 children - some of which are older than him :p Btw, fun fact: Daichi Tanaka's existence only came to be yesterday, at which point I'd been working on the chapter for weeks now. I just needed a good reason for TPS to break into a building. Well, it seems though that Izuku is simply a magnet when it comes to inspiring little kids, even in this universe.**_

_**Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! As always, feedback is very much appreciated. See you next chapter!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Hey there! So uhm, this chapter contains descriptions of injury and blood (nothing too graphic though I suppose)! Just wanted to let you know (I have no idea how trigger warnings work but I'm trying my best and hope it's enough). :) **_

And to think Izuku had been getting used to taking the backseat.

The whole syndicate – no, perhaps the whole country – knew very well Phantom couldn't possibly be kept out of trouble. If he didn't look for it, it would just find him, no matter how cliche that statement sounded.

He had plenty of evidence to support his claim, actually.

First and foremost, the unappealing bunch standing across him, looking like a rag-tag team of every edgy video game character stereotype come to life.

They had the lonesome samurais in the back, one or two Hannibal Lecters and rich mafiosos on the side, the solemn guy dressed as a bartender, and the textbook black-clothes emo with unkempt hair and a bunch of _hands_clutching his body for extra effect – he had to distinguish himself from other tragic backstory-bearers _somehow_, after all.

Villains.

Kazama raised his gun out of instinct. Izuku didn't blame him – the first time he agrees to accompany him on a small mission, and _this_ happens.

Though… They should've expected the 'bullying victims' to be criminals, _honestly_. As the most famous vigilante group in Japan, it should've come as no surprise a trap would be set for them at one point or another. The only even slightly shocking aspect of this was perhaps the fact the small crowd waiting in the alleyway hadn't turned out to be cops. At least those had a good reason to look for TPS. But _villains?_

"Oh come on," the handy-man, who Izuku assumed to be the leader, spoke with amused distaste on his tongue, with just a hint of obvious offense hidden behind the arrogance. "We aren't here to hurt you. 'Just wanted to make a generous, one-time offer. I'm really doing you a favor here, actually."

Izuku didn't dare move a muscle. He felt as if with every passing second, his opponents figured out just one more of his weaknesses, yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't do the same. They could sense his fear and helplessness, he knew, and he also knew most certainly none of that was mutual.

Then again, how did this situation differ from any of the ones he'd make up in his head during math class in middle school as parts of his fleeting hero-daydreams?

Thing is: it actually didn't, not in the slightest. He had the villains, a person to save, and a loose draft of a tactic swimming around in his mind.

When all was said and done, even the syndicate missions looked very much like the work he would've done as a hero. Replace villains with the police and pro-heroes, and there he had it. This really didn't require any more anxiety than all the other jobs, right?

"What do you want?" Extending his arm in front of him to pose a hypothetical threat with his _very-real_ quirk, he shot Kazama a warning glance telling him to get away. If he couldn't come up with a plan from scratch, at least he'd try to save the salvageable.

To his horror, the boy did nothing but smile back and tighten his grip on the gun.

He should've reckoned with Kazama's stubbornness earlier.

Across them, the guy with the hands tutted in disapproval. "You guys hate the heroes, don't you? They're just standing in your way. And ours, too. Don't you want to show them who's better, Phantom?"

The droplets of sweat on Kazama's gun didn't go unnoticed by Izuku. In hindsight, it had been so stupid of them to not expect this happening, to not see that villains would enter the picture sooner or later. They should've been more prepared.

Perhaps Izuku had simply never considered the fact that some viewed The Hero Syndicate as a villain organization. What a grave mistake. On both ends.

Nevertheless, it was obviously too late to think about what could've gone better. He'd rather focus on his heartbeat getting louder and topping the sudden silence in his head as unwelcome filler noise, or on his fingers that just got shakier and shakier as the villains waited for an answer.

"Do elaborate."

At first, Izuku doubted he'd heard himself correctly. Then he realized he hadn't spoken. Not he but Kazama.

Glancing to the side at the black plastic mask covering his friend's face, he hoped to see a sign, a tell-tale glint in the eyes or a nonchalant wrinkle, that would assure him everything was as alright as it could be right then. Anything to convince him his friend didn't even think about seriously considering the offer.

He knew Kazama as the most energetic and down-to-earth person, and even if his upperclassman did have his moments of seriousness and determination, he would never betray the syndicate. Kazama would never accept a villain's offer.

Right?

Izuku had no reason to believe otherwise. After all, acts and deceit played a huge role in the syndicate's work. Surely he was only being paranoid because of his panic.

Hyperventilating now could make all of Kazama's efforts meaningless. He needed to calm down.

Where did Phantom's oh-so iconic persona go now? This wasn't how heroes acted. 

Perhaps All Might had been right alone for the fact Izuku didn't have the guts to face villains and step up, ignoring any scrambled, pessimistic thoughts.

No. He was fine and All Might was wrong. Go believed in him, and Go had his reasons to do so. Izuku had been over this once, why was he still not convinced villains didn't bring any worse consequences with them than all the wrongs he'd committed to so far?

"Bringing down the Symbol of Peace would bring the entire hero society to crumbling, and we have all that we'd need to easily accomplish that. Except for a few helping hands, that is."

All of the mental distractions holding Izuku back from thinking straight vanished at once. Sure, meeting actual, big-time criminals for the first time could be scary, but the fear passed eventually and only the familiar, tingling excitement remained, especially now that even All Might had managed to enter the picture.

In fact, he couldn't help but smile at the obvious pun entering his mind at the villain's words. A few helping hands, _huh_. Phantom was going to have to point out the guy already had plenty of those when they would take their leave.

It was kind of strange, in a way – strange how his once-favorite hero still managed to be the one bringing him peace of mind and evaporating his concerns – he just now remembered that if he wanted to stand on the same level as All Might, he couldn't let a few small-time villains with the sole purpose of wreaking havoc intimidate him, after all.

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" he asked with an intrigued raise of an eyebrow while burying his hands in his pocket and rummaging through it for his phone in a way that hopefully wouldn't get noticed. "Wouldn't want to help with any sorry excuse of a plan, if you get what I mean."

"We'll tell you once you've actually joined. I'm sure you understand we don't need any traitors," the bartender guy behind the leader piped up. His purple mist of a body flared unsteadily as he watched the two boys with caution.

Kazama took a step back just as Izuku had managed to unlock his phone and was now trying to blindly contact Go somehow. "The Phantom Syndicate usually sticks to saving people and not 'bringing society to crumbling'. There should be a well-thought-out plan to assure us we won't lose if we take you up on this offer."

Izuku already knew this wouldn't end well. He hardly had a chance at shutting his friend up, though, did he?

The words were followed by silence. Excruciating silence that just didn't sit right with him, for obvious reasons. At least he had managed to share his location with Go – help should be on its way. They'd get out of this mess somehow.

One of the guys in the background leaning forward and whispering something into the villain leader's face while keeping strict eye contact with Izuku confirmed the opposite, however.

Once he finished, the man turned around and studied the two syndicate members in front of him. Or rather, that's what it looked like – they didn't have much of a chance to read his face with the unpractical "mask" covering it.

Either Kazama messed up big time or they had noticed Izuku.

"Forget it. You're all no good." The blue-haired mess of hands murmured, following up Kazama's backward-step with his own in the boy's direction. He reached toward the hand holding the gun with an open palm, causing a weird hopscotch-shuffle from Kazama as he tried to get away, slowly zigzagging out of the alley like a paralyzed rabbit on the run.

Before Izuku could throw himself at the villains, a deafening bang and a following dark purple mist impeded the scene.

For a long second, he couldn't see a thing but that. Purple. And he didn't hear anything, either, although that might've come from what he presumed to be his friend firing the handgun. He'd experienced short hearing loss as an aftermath of that many times already.

A dull feeling in his left thigh – as if someone had hit him with a hammer – pulled him out of his confused, fuzzy state and sent him rushing through the quickly-fading darkness for his friend with adrenaline fizzing through his veins.

His motions weren't as fluid as usual. He even stumbled at first, his hand flying to his leg to squeeze whatever cramp had appeared and soldier on, except he fell forward, his chest hitting the pavement first, harshly knocking the air out of him and hitting his thigh once more.

It gave him a very handy demonstration on what it would feel like if he'd ever get impaled by a blunt spike in the leg. Considering the situation, he deemed it appropriate to allow himself just two seconds of closing his eyes and biting down on his lip to bear the pain.

"Phantom!" Kazama called out for him, and Izuku felt most certain the villains had spoken too, only the ringing in his ear didn't let him listen in.

When he opened his eyes again, he was met with wild silver locks hovering in the upper part of his vision and an empty end of an alleyway.

No villains in sight.

No villains, but unbearable pressure in his leg. As if someone wanted to tear it apart and had already succeeded partially.

Determined hands grabbed his right side and gently flipped him over. Izuku couldn't understand why. It only made everything hurt more.

"Shit."

After summing up the situation so nicely, Kazama pulled out his phone and started furiously tapping on it, stealing mortified glances at Izuku every three milliseconds.

Did he fall wrong and twist his leg in an unnatural way?

He had little to no idea as to what was going on. A dizzying sensation spun around in his head like a tedious carousel of disorientation and while his leg and a few aching joints where the only sources of pain, the overall discomfort spread out over his entire body surely made up for it.

Control and composure, that's what he needed. If he hadn't died already, he wouldn't do so in the following few minutes, so freaking out would do him absolutely no good.

And yet the knowledge that that was absolutely untrue was as present as ever, technically giving him the right to break down. Though it would've been stupid of him to do until after he'd tallied the damages.

Izuku sat up, his elbows supporting his weight, and looked at the part of his pants that appeared to be a few shades darker than the rest, which, judging by color, circumstances, and evidence, he concluded to be blood.

Following a deep breath in and out, he moved the fabric of his pants with shaky fingers. The action revealed a glimpse of bright red flesh with a dark, almost black rim circling it. Most definitely not an injury he'd gotten from falling. On the other hand, the black weapon lying abandoned in the middle of the asphalt looked much more suspicious.

"What happened?"

Kazama's glassy eyes met his own. "The psycho was charging at me so I fired, but then the purple guy stepped in or something and the bullet went straight through him and…" he gestured to Izuku's thigh, "That. He had some warp-gate or teleportation quirk. I know it was stupid of me but I panicked and... And then the bastards said something about us reconsidering the offer or whatever and teleported away which I guess was good for us but still a spineless move from them since-"

"Kazama, it's going to be okay," Izuku sighed before the guy ran out of breath from rambling on endlessly. "Are you hurt?"

He received a look one would normally get when declaring All Might was the worst superhero in history.

"No…? I mean my hoodie has a huge hole in it for whatever reason and my skin feels a bit itchy but that's nothing compared to your _bullet wound_." Putting extra emphasis on the last two words, Kazama vehemently gestured towards said wound once more before he shifted his attention to his phone again. "Alright, so… We'll call the boss and then figure something out, okay? Look up how to stop that blood faucet of yours."

Izuku nodded as he fished out the phone from his pocket – simply calling an ambulance had never been a viable option in the syndicate. "Call Furuta instead. I'd already tried Go."

Kazama tilted his head as he searched for a possible explanation as to _how_, then threw it back as he finally got it.

"Understood. How are you feeling?"

"Certainly worse than after any of my past injuries…" While his friend raised his phone to his ear, Izuku leaned over the hole in his thigh and tentatively pressed a hand over it. Media dictated pressure was supposed to stop the bleeding, but it just made the injury hurt more. Maybe he was even mixing a nice little infection-cocktail by putting his dirty palm right onto the open wound – great.

The five minutes Kazama needed for the phone call seemed to drag on for hours. Izuku had tried and failed to rip his pants open and bandage his thigh in that time – his hands were too shaky to correctly use scissors and he'd rather not worsen the situation –, which resorted to wrapping his leg with his clothes still on and going back to putting pressure on the thigh.

After a while, the pain subdued and retreated to the back of his thoughts. He found it sort of strange, especially in contrast to the initial torturous burning he had felt. It must've been the adrenaline, or perhaps shock – those were pretty much the only explanations action movies and the sort had ever presented him.

A chocolate bar thrown into his face quickly reminded him he did not have the ability to astral-project himself into said movies to ignore the trauma. "You good? Furuta says the boss has already called him, both of them are on their way here. In the meantime, you could eat that thing. It raises blood sugar according to my dad, maybe that helps somehow."

Izuku cracked a smile. It sure helped, even if he had lost all appetite at the sight of blood sticking to his hands. "Thanks, Kazama."

"Look, I'm… I'm _really_ sorry about shooting you. I was hella scared back there, 'thought it had hit your head at first. Sure looked like it. Thank gosh the purple guy wasn't as crazy as the one with the hands, right? They could've probably killed us if they had wanted to."

"It's fine. And I'm pretty sure he _did_ want to kill you at first."

"Maybe he should team up with that Kacchan guy then."

"Kazama-"

"What? You didn't see the way he stared at me during that school-assembly-thing. Like an angry bulldog stuck on the wrong side of the fence."

He wanted to object, but he knew exactly which look the boy meant. The description was painfully accurate.

By the time their ride had arrived, Izuku could hardly feel his toes. There was only the returning pain and nothing else. Black spots dancing before his eyes may have been absent as of then, but his heart relentlessly hammered against his ribs at an erratic pace, his head felt like a fizzy tablet thrown into cold water, and he temporarily lost his vision when Go helped him to his feet – all of that he deemed barely a punishment for being such an idiot as to not handling the whole villain-incident better.

"The more painful the injury, the more non-lethal," Furuta remarked flippantly as Go set down Izuku onto the Audi's back seat.

Leatherette was a huge step up from the asphalt. He felt like he could safely just pass out then and there and not wake up until TPS had dealt with all the formalities and shipped him off to the nearest hospital.

Nonetheless, he knew nothing came as easy as that for a quirkless vigilante. It didn't even surprise him when Furuta whipped out a bundle of his civilian clothes and began helping his pants down, causing him immense pain in the process. At that point, one might have begun wondering how the guy had earned a degree in nursing with this much care for his patients.

Kazama hopped onto the front seat, did a double-take, and presented Go with the most cheeky grin he had in his repertoire. "So what's the plan?"

The engine roared up and the car backed out of the small side-street. For a long while, Go didn't respond and instead concentrated on his driving, throwing a few mustering glances at the heavily-panting, half-naked boy currently bloodying his vehicle's interior.

Finally, he took a long sip of canned-coffee and fixed his gaze on the road with determination that Izuku very much hoped did not come from this being the moment the man had decided to fire him. "Furuta, can you do anything for Midoriya?"

"Unless the kid gets a stroke out of nowhere, I'm afraid not, Sir."

Go cocked his head sharply. "Alright, then finish changing him and remove any bandages. Midoriya, you go ahead and call him on the phone. He'll answer it and hang up after about two minutes, then call an ambulance… five minutes later? That would make sense, right?"

"That's about the time I would need to get to Midoriya if we had split up, yeah," Kazama chimed in, convincing Izuku that he'd been through such routines before, as a matter of fact.

"Good. It would've been smarter to stay in the alleyway we had found you in. We'll dump you back when we're done, alright? Midoriya, tell the paramedics you had heard some sort of tumult back there as you were waiting for your friend and gone to investigate. TPS and some villains were fighting, you were accidentally shot, et cetera et cetera. You know what I'm getting at. Everything clear?"

Izuku pressed out a halfhearted 'yes.' The lack of concern Go was displaying felt like embracing an ice-cold, lifeless body. While he understood the stress everyone was under – mainly because it had possessed him too and made the incessant ache in his body just a pinch worse – it appeared just as unneeded as the bullet in his flesh.

He was probably getting bothersome. The drilling in the back of his head must've made him irritated – as soon as he'd dialed Kazama, he would take a nap to make it better.

The knock on the hospital room's door at 12 o'clock sharp made both boys currently inside look up in confusion. Not only would the hospital staff never announce their arrival before entering, but visitors weren't allowed during lunch either – except for a few special exceptions like schoolmates delivering homework, but it was Saturday anyway.

Then again, two policemen barging into the children's ward at half-past eight in the evening was just as uncommon, and yet it happened soon after Izuku Midoriya had been admitted. So there was that.

Izuku looked at the seventeen-year-old diabetic in the neighboring bed.

Said seventeen-year-old diabetic looked at him. He shrugged.

Shortly after a second, more urging knock, the door opened a crack and a nurse with traffic cone-like horns shoved her head inside. She looked around, even put half a foot inside as if to test the metaphorical waters, and decided the two patients had both passed whatever test she had made up in her head.

"You have guests, Midoriya. The same as usual." With her gentle yet intimidating ear-to-ear smile, one had to assume that by 'usual', she meant all the police officers whose new favorite past time had become bugging a kid semi-high on pain killer-quirks during the day and _completely_ high on pain killer-quirks during the night. Half of the ward had already grown to despise them during the short 18-hour period this tradition had been upheld.

"They'd been here three times already," his roommate objected. A vanilla-scented cloud exited his mouth in the form of a sigh.

The nurse echoed his displeasure but quickly collected herself. "I'm sorry. You're free to leave the room anytime you'd like, Nakamura."

Nakamura used his favorite form of a reply – a mix between a mumble and a groan – and shoveled another spoon of green bean soup into his mouth, officially declaring the conversation to be over on his part by flashing an acquiescing smile.

After exactly two and a half seconds of drug-induced hesitation, Izuku agreed to the visitors as well.

Filled with pride for her accomplishment, the nurse wisely decided she better give the guests some space. She slid out of the room.

Only then did the reality of his actions enter Izuku's mind – considerably about twenty minutes too late. Curse healing quirks with dumbing effects.

To be clear, he would've easily dealt with 'the usual' if the premise of it had still been simple policemen wanting to question him. In that case, he wouldn't have wanted to escape through the window that very second, actually. But this differed greatly from 'the usual". This was 'the worst-case scenario'.

The warp gate guy might as well have sent the bullet through Izuku's lungs. He would've been just as speechless as he was now, but he would've had a way to justify it then. Saying Shouto Todoroki made him uncomfortable didn't strike him as a viable reason to refuse a witness report, let alone one to send the guy and his buddies home.

He was pretty sure the green bean soup wouldn't stay in his stomach for too long.

_**Thanks for reading this mess of a chapter! There are a lot of things I personally dislike, but I hope you enjoyed it! Please tell me if the characterization is wacky cause I'm pretty sure it is and I can't stop worrying about that-**_

_**Also I swear I hate writing OCs (even if it doesn't look like it) but Izuku being so separated from his canon surroundings makes not adding them so much harder :/ I hope you don't mind? I promise 99% of OCs introduced at this point have no importance and are only needed for that certain scene :p**_

_**Quick heads-up btw, my posting schedule will probably remain one chapter every three weeks (maybe two) due to some personal problems.**_

_**Anyways... Thank you so much for reading this chapter! I hope you liked it, and as always, please leave a comment giving me some feedback and tell me what I can improve/what you enjoyed AND if the characterization was okay in this chapter 'cause as I already mentioned it's currently kinda stressing me out :( See you next chapter!**_


End file.
